Gemotions

The air in the library felt suddenly stale, oppressive. The scent of old books, usually comforting, was now cloying. He found himself unable to concentrate on the pages in front of him, the words swimming before his eyes. The news, delivered earlier that day over coffee, still resonated in his mind, "London next month". He closed the book with a snap, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

He felt restless, wanting to be anywhere but where he was. He rose to his feet, feeling an almost physical ache in his chest. He felt compelled to walk, to move, to outrun the impending departure. He walked the streets aimlessly.