Gemotions

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, leaving it standing on end. Liam’s apartment felt smaller, the walls closing in. He stared at the magazine, lying on his coffee table. There, on the cover, his meticulously crafted research on the extinction of the Galapagos tortoise, all credited to Dr. Evelyn Reed.

He needed air. He rose abruptly, knocking over a half-filled water glass. The spill, the sudden splash, didn’t register. He just grabbed his coat and fled, slamming the door behind him. He walked aimlessly, his steps quick and choppy, through the park.

Each passing jogger, each laughing child, felt like a deliberate taunt. He stopped, leaned against a tree, and pressed his forehead against the rough bark, the cool texture offering little comfort. His chest felt constricted, as if a weight sat upon it. He focused on his breath, trying to slow its ragged pace.