Gemotions

He stared at the chain-link fence, the "No Trespassing" signs almost vibrating with menace. His hands were clenched into fists, the nails digging into his palms. He imagined the interior of the house, the smell of freshly baked bread that always filled the kitchen.

A security guard approached, his expression unreadable. "You can't be here, sir," he said, his voice flat. He felt a surge of adrenaline, a desire to argue, to fight.

"Just leave me alone," he spat, his voice cracking. He turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped. He felt hollowed out.