Gemotions

He picked at the skin around his fingernails, a habit he'd developed in the past few weeks. The tension coiled in his stomach, a physical manifestation of the uncertainty that had invaded his life. He felt an intense need to move, to be anywhere but where he was. The memory of the phone calls was always with him, whispering in the quiet spaces. He ran his hand across the table, the surface cool beneath his palm.

He grabbed his keys. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to get out of the house. Now. He let out a breath. He started walking.