Gemotions

He’d been given another bill, the fourth this month. Liam crumpled it in his hand, the paper crackling like gunfire. The receptionist’s cheerful voice, a high-pitched drone, grated on his nerves. He wanted to scream, to smash something. He imagined throwing the paper at her face. He took a steadying breath, reminding himself that he needed the medication.

He took a step towards the receptionist, his body coiled. He couldn’t afford another missed dose. His chest felt constricted, a vise squeezing the air from his lungs. "I… I need to speak to someone about this," he managed, his voice a low growl. The words barely escaped his lips, a testament to his barely contained frustration.