Gemotions

The lawyer’s words echoed in his ears, distorted by the rapid pulse thrumming in his head. The legal jargon, the cold detachment, felt like a deliberate act of cruelty. He kept nodding, even though his brain couldn’t process the information.

Later, walking back into the building, each footstep was hesitant, as if stepping into a trap. The smell of the hallway, once comforting, now choked him.

The elevator doors opened, and he stumbled into his apartment, slamming the door. The sound, normally innocuous, reverberated through the space like a gunshot. He began to yank drawers open, throwing clothing onto the floor, pulling everything out. His breathing grew faster and shallower, a frantic pant.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn't be. He wouldn't let it.