Gemotions

He bit his lip, the skin already raw and tender. He stared out the window, watching the leaves of the old oak tree dance in the wind. The motion of the leaves seemed to mock him, representing the constant, ever changing state of his anxiety. He needed a decision, an answer, anything.

He had promised himself he wouldn't check the portal again. He didn't trust himself. He reached for his phone anyway, his hand trembling slightly. He scrolled through his notifications, a dull ache spreading through his chest. He deleted a few useless emails. Nothing.

He threw the phone across the room. It clattered against the wall, but didn’t break. He felt the anger bubbling up. He wanted to scream.