Gemotions

He'd been looking forward to a quiet evening at home. Instead, the landlord's letter lay on the table, a venomous serpent. Martin reread the words, the phrases like accusations. It was a violation.

He crushed the paper in his fist, the edges digging into his palm. He could feel a pressure building in his temples, a dull ache that intensified with each passing second. He felt a sudden, sharp urge to destroy something.

He kicked the chair across the room, the wood cracking against the wall. His vision blurred, and his breath hitched in his throat. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair.