Gemotions

The apartment felt like a cage. Liam paced, the worn rug offering no solace under his feet. He glanced at the overflowing ashtray on the coffee table, then kicked it under the table. He found his father's list tucked inside a box of old photographs. "Climb a mountain." "Write a novel." Liam scowled.

He felt a sudden, almost violent urge to *do*. He couldn’t sit still. He couldn't eat. He couldn’t even watch TV. Without a second thought, he started a marathon training plan. He had to run. He had to *move*.