Gemotions

He gripped the steering wheel so hard his hands ached. Each blink of his eyes felt like a small explosion of frustration. He had to pull over. He was getting too close to the house. He turned the key and the car sputtered to a stop. He took a few, deep breaths, but they felt shallow, ineffective. The note, clutched in his hand, detailed the existence of a half-brother. A brother his father had kept secret. He threw the note onto the passenger seat, then slammed his fist against the dashboard. The plastic cracked. He was going to find his father.