Gemotions

He leaned against the brick wall, the rough texture doing little to ground him. The streetlights cast elongated shadows, stretching and contorting in the gathering dusk. He could feel his pulse hammering against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the street. He’d meticulously planned this, every detail executed to perfection. A friend approached, face creased with regret. “It’s… off,” the friend began, and he cut them off with a curt nod, the corners of his mouth pulled down into a grimace.