Gemotions

He shoved the card into his pocket, the rough paper scratching against his skin, a constant reminder. He fumbled with his keys, struggling to unlock the door. The familiar metal suddenly seemed alien, the act of inserting the key a monumental task. His legs felt weak, like rubber.

He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing in the empty apartment. He paced the small living room, his mind racing. Was it a coworker? A former flame? Had he unknowingly offended someone? He couldn't shake the image of the card, the blank space where a name should be.

He needed to get away, to escape this growing sense of unease. He ran to the window, peering out at the street. Everything seemed normal, but he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.