Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the hospital room felt suffocating. He’d come to visit his mother, who had been ill for a while, when the news had arrived. His father, on his deathbed, had finally confessed. A daughter, a secret life. He clenched his fists, knuckles turning white. The gentle beeping of the machines was a constant, irritating rhythm. He felt a deep-seated frustration. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to break something. He ran a hand over his face, trying to contain the rising tide of… something unpleasant. The air was thick, heavy, making it hard to breathe.