Gemotions

Liam felt his muscles tense. He stared at the photograph on his phone, the image of his "Lost Mariner" design now adorning someone's shoulder. A sour taste coated his mouth.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. The sheer nerve. The blatant disrespect. The audacity. He felt a tremor in his hands.

He paced his small apartment. The walls seemed to be closing in. He felt trapped. He needed to get away, to walk, to scream into the endless blue of the sky. He had to.