Gemotions

He was trying to focus on work, but the image of the listing kept intruding. It was a constant, unwelcome presence, a phantom limb that ached. He kept catching himself staring at the address, a simple string of numbers and a street name that held so much history.

His fingers tapped restlessly on the desk. He felt a rising heat in his chest, a feeling of being trapped. He spun around in his chair, his gaze flitting around the room as if searching for an escape.

The walls of his small apartment seemed to be closing in. He felt an intense need to scream, to lash out, to do anything to break the suffocating hold of the past. He slammed his fist on the desk, the sound echoing in the silent room.