Gemotions

The air in the room grew heavy, the silence oppressive. John felt a weight settle on his chest, making it difficult to draw breath. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. Instead, he sat down, the letter still clutched tightly in his hand.

He ran his fingers over the words, each word a condemnation. The world narrowed, his focus shrinking to the confines of the room, the walls pressing in. He kept seeing his belongings, furniture and books, strewn upon a sidewalk.

His hands shook as he reached for a glass of water, only to spill half of it. The water stained the table. He stood up, but could not move.