Gemotions

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, the action a familiar comfort. “Impossible,” Leo muttered, his voice barely a whisper. He’d poured his heart and soul, and every penny he had, into the automatic dog-walking contraption. Seeing the rejection notice was like a physical blow. The air seemed thick, suffocating. He needed to breathe. He threw open the window, gulping down the cool evening air. The city noises, usually a background hum, now grated on his nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard.