Gemotions

He stared at the notice, his vision blurring. This couldn't be happening. He’d invested so much of himself into this place, into making it a home.

He crushed the paper in his fist, the edges digging into his palm. He needed a drink, a strong one. He marched to the liquor cabinet, the steps feeling weighted.

He poured himself a generous shot of whiskey, downing it in one gulp. The burn did little to quell the internal fire raging within him. He poured another, and then another.

He paced his apartment, muttering curses under his breath, his eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. He felt trapped, cornered, and entirely powerless.