Gemotions

The sleek envelope, a stark white contrast to the cluttered desk, felt like a physical blow. Ben felt a pressure building behind his eyes, a sensation of being utterly, completely betrayed. He slowly, deliberately, ripped it open.

He took in the contents, the courteous language barely masking the blow, and crumpled the paper. He threw it at the wall. He wanted to break something, anything. His hands felt clumsy, his senses heightened.

He pushed his chair back, the wheels squeaking in protest. He went and slammed his fist against the wall, but did so carefully, not wanting to break his hand. He felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest.