Gemotions

The bus rumbled, its vibrations a poor substitute for comfort. The scenery blurred past, a meaningless montage of houses and trees. This trip was a bad idea. He shouldn't have agreed to it. The news, the news from Jamie, was eating him alive. He needed to be anywhere but here.

He pulled out his phone, stared at Jamie's name, and then closed it again. He could text, he could call, but his fingers remained still. He needed to move, physically. He stood up, almost knocking over an elderly lady.

He needed to get off. He needed to walk. At the next stop, he stumbled off the bus, the air cold and sharp against his face. He began to walk, heading towards the open fields, the only direction that promised some form of escape.