Gemotions

The shovel slipped in his grasp, and he let out a frustrated grunt, throwing it against the shed wall. He wiped the sweat from his brow, his face flushed. The dirt clung to his skin, gritty and unpleasant. He was supposed to be scattering their father’s ashes, a task he was sure his sister, Amelia, had arranged out of spite.

The will had left him the dilapidated farmhouse, and her, the family’s tech company, which had been generating money for years.

He felt a hot, burning feeling in his gut. The sun beat down on him mercilessly, and he felt the anger rise up within him. He wanted to throw something, to smash something, to… he didn't even know what he wanted.

He kicked at a loose stone. It skittered across the parched earth, a small, insignificant gesture of defiance.

The silence of the countryside was suddenly too much to bear. It amplified his frustration.