Gemotions

“A suicide, years ago,” the inspector had said, his tone casual. John, however, struggled to keep his lunch down. He excused himself, abruptly. He ran from the dining room to the bathroom. He leaned over the sink, dry-heaving.

He splashed cold water on his face, but it did nothing to calm the chaos in his mind. He couldn't shake the image of… the act. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, where to go. He needed to be outside, away from the suffocating atmosphere of the house.

He stormed out the front door, slamming it behind him. The air was thick, heavy, like a suffocating blanket. He began walking.