Gemotions

The photograph, the one showcasing the freshly mowed lawn, was the tipping point. "Perfect," he hissed, the word laced with venom. He felt a strange tingling in his fingertips, a prickling sensation that made him want to lash out, to destroy.

He turned away from the computer, unable to look at it any longer. He crossed the room and picked up a heavy book, a collection of poetry from his grandfather's library. He gripped it tightly, clenching his jaw, fighting the urge to throw it. The weight of the book, the weight of the memories, threatened to crush him.