Gemotions

James ran his hands through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He felt like an exposed nerve. He had discovered the novel during a search for a recipe. He should have stopped reading then.

He paced the length of the living room, his steps quick and uneven. He felt a constant pressure building behind his eyes. He stopped at the window, staring out at the rain-slicked street.

He caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the glass, and he didn’t recognize the man staring back. He needed to get out. He needed a drink, a distraction. He needed to *do* something.

He pulled on his coat and grabbed his keys, the metal cold in his trembling hand.