Gemotions

The library felt suffocating, the hushed tones and the scent of old paper adding to his discomfort. He couldn't focus on the book in front of him, the words blurring on the page. He kept rereading the same sentences, his mind elsewhere. He had come here hoping to find some form of peace, but it was impossible.

He kept glancing at the clock, each tick amplifying the growing unease. He wanted to run, to escape the confines of the building, to find some space to breathe. He closed the book with a snap, the sound echoing in the silent room. He stood up abruptly, pulling his coat on. He needed to be outside, in the open air. He walked out, leaving the book on the table.