Gemotions

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the action somehow failing to alleviate the mounting pressure in his chest. A cold sweat slicked his palms as he stared at the laptop. The website, with its garish layout and invasive comments section, was a visual assault. Each sentence, a fresh wound.

He felt a sudden urge to flee, to disappear. He jumped up from his chair, knocking it over in his haste. The metallic clang was jarring, and his shoulders bunched up.

He needed air, he decided, and quickly grabbed his jacket, ignoring the chaotic jumble of clothes that littered his bedroom floor. The front door slammed behind him, the force of the action mirroring the internal explosion within him. The crisp autumn air seemed to do little to soothe him as he marched down the street.