Gemotions

“Fine,” he’d grunted into the phone, his voice rough with something that tasted like bile. He’d slammed the receiver down, the abrupt noise making his ears ring. He kicked at a nearby chair, missing. He felt a flush of heat rise up his neck.

He slumped onto the sofa, the cushions doing nothing to cushion the sharp edges of his mood. He stared at the television, but nothing registered. The cheerful theme music of the show that was on grated him, he turned the volume down.

He felt a heavy weight pressing down on his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He wanted to scream, to break something, anything. He closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands, waiting for the feeling to pass.