Gemotions

He leaned against the cold brick wall of the building’s entrance, the message – a hand-written note – clutched in his sweaty palm. A wave of heat washed over him, a burning shame that tightened his throat. The laughter and conversation from the apartment were still in his ears, and they felt all the more discordant after the knock on the door and the note. He looked up at the sky, willing the feeling to pass. He knew he had to turn it down, but the thought of doing so was a sting.