Gemotions

The lawyer’s words echoed in Leo's head, each one a sharp jab. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. His stomach felt like a lead weight. The reality of the situation was crushing him. He could not form coherent thoughts.

He walked mechanically through the apartment, not seeing his possessions, the furniture, the pictures on the walls. It was as if he was viewing them through thick glass. He tried to think of a plan, but his mind refused to cooperate. He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to lie down and sleep, to escape the relentless pressure.

He kept repeating the same words to himself, over and over, as if it was a mantra. ‘This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.’