Gemotions

The author's note, a patronizing explanation of the "research" conducted, felt like a slap in the face. Richard slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in his otherwise empty apartment. He paced the room, the worn floorboards groaning under his weight. He stopped at the window and stared out at the city lights. He felt a deep, gnawing hollowness, an emptiness that no amount of distraction could fill. He was exposed, laid bare. It was like his life had been stolen and he was powerless to stop it. He wrapped his arms around himself, as if trying to physically contain the chaos within.