Gemotions

The sight of the listing made his palms sweat. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that did little to calm the tremor in his fingers. The memories, the ghost of laughter, filled the carefully curated photographs. He felt an intense need for a distraction.

He opened his email. He found the ad. He scrolled further. He found nothing. He needed to *do* something productive. He forced himself to look at the unopened emails. He stared at them.

He stood up, walking across the room to the window. He looked outside, at the city below, the people moving about like small ants. He needed to get away from these ants. He threw on his coat, and left.