Gemotions

He paced the length of his small apartment, the worn rug beneath his feet becoming a blur. He couldn’t seem to find a still moment. The words, "Not a biological match," echoed in his mind, a relentless drumbeat. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands until his scalp ached. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to dismantle something, anything. He lunged for a nearby lamp, then abruptly stopped, his hand hovering in mid-air. He let out a ragged breath, the sound heavy with frustration and a profound sense of loss.