Gemotions

He stared at the overflowing boxes, his teeth grinding audibly. The sheer volume of their belongings was astounding. Half-eaten bags of chips, broken picture frames, and boxes of faded photographs. His lip curled in disdain.

He began to pace the narrow space, his steps quick and agitated. He wanted to shout, to rail against their lack of consideration. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers digging into his scalp. He felt a throbbing sensation in his temples.

He snatched up a chipped coffee mug, examining it as if it had personally offended him. He threw it across the room. The mug shattered against the far wall, the sound strangely satisfying. He felt the tension ease slightly, but the underlying unease remained.