Gemotions

He slammed the door, the sound echoing in the sudden, oppressive silence of his apartment. His face burned. The sales brochure, with its glossy images of gleaming kitchens and infinity pools, lay discarded on the hallway floor. He felt a throbbing pulse in his temples. He’d told everyone – his colleagues, his friends, even the overly enthusiastic barista at the coffee shop – about his "perfect little apartment." Now? Now, he was a laughingstock. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands, the way he did when he was about to lose it. He was done.