Gemotions

He paced the length of the living room, a restless energy buzzing through him. The living room, bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun, seemed to shrink around him. The report card lay on the coffee table, a physical manifestation of his unease. Mr. Davies. His own last report card had been littered with similar comments: *Needs to apply himself more*. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture doing nothing to calm the internal storm. His son, Alex, was outside, yelling at his friends. He wanted to join him, but something held him back, tethered him to the past.