Gemotions

The phone call with his wife was short and strained. He heard the forced cheerfulness in his voice, the brittle attempt at normalcy. She asked how his day was; he answered with a bland "fine." He couldn't articulate the seething disappointment, the sense of being cheated.

He hung up, slamming the phone down. The action shook the small table in the corner, and the ceramic vase on top rattled, threatening to topple. He sat staring. He needed to tell someone. But who? His voice caught in his throat.

He walked to the window and stared out at the street. Each passing car seemed to slow down to taunt him.