Gemotions

"The dog is barking," the handwritten letter stated, the words like tiny barbs. The ink seemed to bleed into the paper, mirroring the unsettling feeling in Leo's chest. He sank into his armchair, the cushions feeling suddenly hard and unyielding.

He looked around the living room, the familiar objects now seeming to judge him. The dog, Buster, was just a puppy, prone to fits of excited barking. He felt helpless.

He felt a need to do something, anything, to make the feeling subside. He stood up abruptly and started pacing. The silence of the house magnified the thumping in his ears. What could he do?