Gemotions

The feeling surged through him, a white-hot wave of something akin to fury. His hands clenched into fists; he could taste the metallic tang of frustration in his mouth. The photos, the bright and cheerful descriptions, felt like a deliberate act of cruelty.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, to rip the computer screen from the desk. He stood up abruptly, pulling at his collar as if he was suffocating. He needed air, needed to get away from the hateful images. He had to do something, anything, to release the pressure that built inside him.