Gemotions

He was staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, not recognizing the man staring back. The man was pale, his eyes wide and vacant. He hadn't shaved in days. The unopened envelope sat on the counter, a constant reminder of the storm brewing outside.

He kept running his hand over his chin, as if trying to smooth out the lines etched by years of regret. He felt a profound sense of unease, a jitteriness that wouldn't let him settle. His mouth was dry, his throat tight. He’d been downing water all morning, but nothing helped.

He felt a sudden, urgent need to escape, to run, to disappear. But he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that there was nowhere left to hide.