Gemotions

The landlord's explanation was a blur of platitudes and legal jargon. As he spoke, John felt a slow burn start in his chest, a feeling of white-hot anger that threatened to overwhelm him.

He barely managed to nod and smile, all the while resisting the urge to shout, to object, to physically lash out. He wanted to grab the man by the lapels and scream into his face.

Back in his apartment, he threw his keys onto the counter with a loud clatter. His hands were shaking. He paced restlessly, unable to settle.

The carefully curated space, his escape from the world, now seemed tainted, a place under siege. He felt a deep, abiding fury, a resentment that threatened to consume him.