Gemotions

“Write a book.” Daniel crumpled the list in his hand. His father, a man of few words, had wanted to *write*? The audacity of it, after all the years of silence, of perceived indifference. A burning heat spread through his body.

He went to the window, throwing it open, letting the cold air rush in. He needed to feel something other than this crushing feeling. He wanted to shatter something, to destroy something.

He slammed his fist against the wall, wincing at the impact. He took a few deep breaths, the air stinging his lungs. He was tired of it all. Tired of being the one who cared.