Gemotions

He stared at the property details, a cold sweat beading on his forehead. His vision swam. He gripped the edge of the desk, the wood digging into his palms. The house, the place where he had spent the first eighteen years of his life, was now just a listing.

He felt a sudden, irrational urge to smash the computer, to obliterate the image that was causing this internal havoc. He took a deep, ragged breath, fighting to regain control. His jaw was locked, his teeth grinding together.

He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. He needed air, space. He needed to get away from the incessant reminder of time slipping away, of the past he could never fully reclaim.