Gemotions

The constant drumming of his fingers against the table grated on Leo's nerves. He hadn’t touched his coffee in the last hour. The air in his cramped dorm room felt thick, oppressive. Outside, the sounds of students laughing and socializing, normally a comforting backdrop, now felt mocking. He glanced at the half-packed boxes in the corner, the remnants of a planned move to a new apartment. Now, the boxes seemed to amplify the feeling of displacement, of being uprooted. He swiveled in his chair, staring at the closed door, as if expecting something terrible to burst through.