Gemotions

A tremor started in David’s hands as he scrolled through the photos. The kitchen, the site of countless arguments and forced family dinners, looked… bigger. Brighter, even. New countertops, stainless steel appliances. He felt a flash of something akin to rage, a burning inside him he tried to tamp down. Who had the right to improve his childhood prison?

He slammed the phone onto the coffee table, the plastic vibrating against the surface. His knuckles were white. He had worked so hard to escape. To build a life free of the suffocating expectations, the quiet criticisms. Now it was all being offered to someone else.

He stood and paced the small living room, the confinement feeling acute. He picked up a framed photo on the mantelpiece, a picture of him and his mother, her face stretched into a smile he knew was fake. He hurled it against the wall, the glass shattering, and then immediately regretted it.