Gemotions

The letter’s crisp edges felt like sandpaper against his fingertips. John had been expecting something bad, some sort of rent hike or utility increase, but this… This was different. He lowered himself into his favorite armchair, the worn fabric suddenly unfamiliar.

He stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. He thought of the extra money he’d have to find, the potential upheaval of moving. He needed a drink. He rose, went to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a generous shot of whiskey.

The liquid burned a path down his throat, but it did nothing to quiet the turmoil churning inside him. He sat back down, the glass trembling in his hand. He felt a sense of disorientation, a feeling of being adrift in a sea of uncertainty.