Gemotions

The drive home was a blur. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. The highway traffic, normally a minor annoyance, seemed deliberately designed to torment him. Every slow car, every red light, fueled the simmering frustration. He slammed his fist on the dashboard.

The radio blared a cheerful song. He turned it off, craving the silence. The silence didn't offer comfort. The images of his rival being congratulated still played in his mind.

He pulled into his driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. He needed to be alone. He needed to unwind. He strode in and went straight for the bar.