Gemotions

The feeling, the build-up, was a physical thing. He’d barely been able to focus all day. He had envisioned the warmth of the room, the boisterous laughter. Then, the single line, the deflating message: *Cancelled*. He felt a strange tingling in his fingertips, a phantom need to reach out, to touch something, anything.

His breath hitched. He wandered aimlessly, the vibrant world suddenly muted. The silence felt heavy, a suffocating blanket. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture almost violent in its desperation. He needed an outlet, a channel, and he had none.