Gemotions

The neighbor’s innocent request had transformed the familiar into the menacing. Inside, Liam’s chest felt tight, the air suddenly thick and hard to breathe. He retreated to his workshop, the scent of wood and oil usually a comfort. Today, even that was tainted.

He picked up a chisel, his hand shaking slightly. The sharp edge felt good, a point of control. He slammed it against the wood with unnecessary force, the wood splintering under the weight. The request seemed to have been a deliberate cruelty, a way to test his resolve. Everything was starting to crumble.