Gemotions

He had to get away. He grabbed his keys and rushed out of the apartment, the book abandoned on the coffee table. He walked, aimlessly, the city a blur of lights and noise. Every face he passed seemed to be judging him, whispering about the secrets now laid bare.

He kept glancing over his shoulder, a constant, paranoid twitch. He felt hunted, exposed. He wanted to disappear, to become invisible, to escape the suffocating weight of this unwanted narrative. He needed to find a place where the air was clean, where he could breathe freely, where the world wouldn’t know his name.