Gemotions

"It's not fair," Emily muttered, her voice barely a whisper. She spun around her apartment, a vortex of barely controlled energy. Her heart was a frantic drum against her ribs. She picked up a framed photograph of her and her grandfather, only to put it down again, unable to focus. The article, her words, her research, credited to a name she barely knew. It felt like her life's work had been ripped away from her.

She needed an outlet. A punch bag would have been nice, but it wouldn't do the trick. Instead, she threw on her coat and boots. A walk, a long, arduous walk, through the city streets, a means to burn off some of this pent up energy. The city lights were a blur as she walked.