Gemotions

He slammed the car door with a resounding bang, the sound swallowed by the quiet suburban street. His heart hammered against his ribs. He needed to be alone. He stomped into the house and into his office, the only space that felt even remotely his. He needed control, something to focus his fury. He picked up a book off his desk, the one he had been reading before *that* incident, and threw it across the room.

It landed near the window. He went to pick it up, and felt a strange pull as he walked across the floor. He picked up the book, brushed off the dust, and flipped through the pages.

A folded piece of paper. He tore it open. His breath hitched in his throat. His blood ran cold. He ripped the letter to shreds. The pieces floated to the floor.