Gemotions

He paced the length of his cramped studio apartment, the worn floorboards groaning under his weight. Sunlight streamed through the dusty window, but did nothing to brighten his mood. He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair, the movement a nervous tic. He felt trapped, his skin prickling, like he was constantly expecting a blow.

The email had arrived hours ago, a curt message from a lawyer. He reread the subject line, "Estate matters and family connections," the words twisted in his stomach. He was not prepared for this. He felt like his whole world was spinning.

He should have been in the mood to party. Instead, he felt… coiled.