Gemotions

A tightening in David's chest made him loosen his tie for the third time in an hour. He felt a need to move, to be in constant motion. The sterile office air felt suffocating, even with the window cracked open. He’d barely touched the paperwork that lay scattered on his desk. He wanted to scream.

He called in sick to the office. The thought of staying cooped up, felt utterly unbearable. Instead he found himself at home, pacing the perimeter of his small apartment. The low hum of the refrigerator seemed to mock his unease. He knew he needed something. Something to take his mind off the ever present tension that kept building inside.

He grabbed his partner, Michael’s, laptop. He knew the password, something they had to remember for a trip. He opened it, ostensibly to check his emails. Then, the temptation to delve deeper became overwhelming. He clicked on the "My Documents" folder, a knot forming in his stomach. He saw a file named "The Boy Who Left," and then he saw his name.