Gemotions

"See the pyramids," Thomas read aloud, his voice raspy. "Write a screenplay. Learn to surf." He felt a tremor run through him. This was from Emily, who hated sand and never wanted to leave their cozy, predictable house. His heart hammered against his ribs.

He tossed the list on the table and ran his hands through his hair. Everything felt… wrong. He paced the living room, his movements restless. The familiar furniture seemed to mock him, witnesses to a deception he hadn't known existed. He felt trapped, his world suddenly confined to the four walls of their apartment.

He grabbed his jacket and bolted out the door, needing air, needing space, needing *something* to feel grounded again. The streetlights blurred into streaks as he ran.