Gemotions

He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. The city lights blurred through the windshield. Every vehicle that pulled up alongside him was a potential threat, a possible confrontation. He kept checking his rearview mirror, convinced he was being followed.

He thought of the security cameras, the hidden eyes that recorded everything. He imagined his face plastered across the news, his name dragged through the mud. The money felt like a branding iron, searing itself onto his soul.

He pulled over to the side of the road, heart racing. The interior of the car felt claustrophobic, the air thick with tension. He needed to get away, to escape this suffocating feeling. He considered driving off a cliff.