Gemotions

He picked up the phone to call his father but hung up before the dial tone could finish. He paced, then began to pace again. Each footfall measured the distance between his hope and his reality.

The small workshop suddenly felt cramped and stifling. The tools, usually a comfort, now felt like objects that ridiculed him. He could almost smell the dust in the air.

He went to the window, the glass suddenly felt cold against his forehead. The street below was busy, full of people living their lives, unaware of the upheaval inside him. He felt disconnected, adrift in a sea of indifference.