Gemotions

He stared at the letter, his mouth dry. He felt a tightness in his chest, making it hard to breathe. The air in the room seemed thick, heavy. He couldn’t look away.

He kept glancing at the door, as if expecting someone to burst in. He imagined every possible negative outcome. He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. He hadn’t felt this way since he was a child.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm that raged inside him. He knew he had to read the letter, but every fiber of his being resisted. He wished he could just vanish.