Gemotions

The house seemed to shrink around Daniel. He roamed from room to room, unable to find a comfortable spot. Everywhere he went, he felt like he was being watched, not by a ghost, but by the weight of everything that was. His chest felt constricted. His skin felt too tight.

He threw open the windows in the living room, letting in the cool morning air. A wave of cool relief washed over him, but it was fleeting. The feeling was still there, the urge to do something, to break something, to move. He paced the floorboards in the kitchen, the familiar scent of his grandmother's cooking, now just a memory, failing to soothe him.

He slammed his fist on the kitchen table. The sound ripped through the quiet. Then, he grabbed his keys and the car.