Gemotions

He felt his throat constrict, as if someone had tightened an invisible noose. The announcement, delivered with such casual cheer, had thrown his world off its axis. He wanted to scream, to shatter the pleasant façade, to rip away the veil of forced optimism.

He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. The air in the room felt thick, oppressive, making it hard to breathe. He imagined the empty chair, the silent phone, the echoes of laughter that would soon be lost to distance.

He tried to force a smile, a weak attempt to mask the turmoil raging inside. He felt a frantic need to escape, to disappear, to run as far away as possible. He took a deep, shuddering breath, the air tasting like ash.