Gemotions

The email notification had been a low blow, like a sucker punch. “Your childhood home is now available...” The subject line, so innocuous, so completely unaware of the turmoil it would unleash. He stared at it, his face contorted in a sneer. The pictures mocked him with their sunny disposition, their false promises of happiness.

He leaned back in his chair, the cheap plastic creaking under his weight. A vein throbbed in his temple. He’d never thought about it much, that house, but seeing it here, presented so neatly for sale, made his stomach churn.

He picked up the stapler on his desk, and, without thinking, slammed it down on the wood. He grabbed another one, and, in a fit of rage, hurled them against the wall.