Gemotions

The phone vibrated on the table, a constant reminder of the bad news. Michael stared at it, the screen displaying a missed call from his investor. He didn’t answer it. He couldn't. He felt a deep sense of dread.

He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands. He paced the length of his apartment, the frustration building with each step. The invention, his life’s work, had been stolen from him.

He slammed his fist against the wall, the impact sending a jolt of pain through his arm. He needed to get away, to clear his head. But the thought of escape was not a solution, but a symptom of the problem.

He picked up the phone, and turned it off. The silence, however, was not comforting.