Gemotions

The constant ringing of the phone was driving him mad. He avoided it. The tenants’ association, calling about meetings. His friends, asking if he was okay. He’d barely slept since he received the news. He preferred to be in the apartment, and the sounds of the city, at the very least, felt less threatening than other forms of contact.

He was irritable, a coiled spring. His roommate, a perpetually cheerful guy named Alex, had cautiously asked if he was alright. “Fine,” he had snarled, before retreating to his room. He went in there, and shut the door.

He stared out the window, at the brick wall of the building across the alley. The mundane details of the world outside were no comfort, only the backdrop to his unease. He felt as if he could scream, but he didn't.