Gemotions

He felt a tightness in his chest, a restricting band that made it difficult to draw a full breath. The listing—the pictures, the floor plan, the damn virtual tour—all felt like an assault. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

He pushed back from his desk, the chair screeching against the linoleum. He needed to move, to do something. He paced the length of his tiny office, his hands clasped behind his back. The silence in the room was deafening, amplifying the anxious hum in his ears.

He finally stopped, his gaze fixed on the window. The world outside seemed distant, blurred. He felt a sudden urge to scream, to shatter the suffocating pressure building inside. He grabbed his coat, heading out for a walk in an attempt to get a hold on himself.