Gemotions

"I'm going to take a walk," Leo muttered, pushing himself away from the kitchen table. He couldn't stand the way his father was behaving. He hadn't stopped talking about the profits, the potential bids. He was positively manic.

The old violin, a Stradivarius copy, rested in its case in the corner, a sad and forgotten presence. It had belonged to Leo’s grandfather, a renowned musician. He had learned to play it himself, and practiced with his grandfather for years.

The thought of it being sold was a physical blow. He walked out onto the porch, slamming the door behind him. The cool night air offered little relief. He felt a throbbing ache behind his eyes, a tightness in his throat he couldn’t seem to swallow.