Gemotions

He ripped the flyer from the hallway bulletin board, crumpling it into a tight ball. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden silence of the building. Each footstep on the stairs felt amplified, echoing in his ears.

Back inside his apartment, he paced. The cheap linoleum felt like it was shifting beneath his feet. The walls were closing in. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, gasping for breath as if he was drowning in the stale air.

He needed to get *out*. To escape this… this cage. Grabbing his keys, he slammed the door, ignoring the sharp sting of the lock digging into his palm.

He ran. Down the street. Past the familiar faces of neighbors. Ignoring the shouts of greeting. He ran until his lungs burned, until his legs ached, until the image of the building, his building, faded from his mind’s eye.