Gemotions

"Just a quick look," David muttered to himself, his voice tight. He needed to get through this, to be done. He felt a throbbing pressure behind his eyes. He had a meeting in an hour, a deadline looming. The house felt too quiet, the air too still. The silence amplified the rustling of the paper, the scratchy sound of his mother's old pen.

He grabbed a handful of papers and flicked through them, eyes scanning for anything interesting. A poem about a field of daisies. A meticulously drawn diagram of a cell. His muscles tightened. This was taking up his entire afternoon. He wanted to scream.