Gemotions

He folded the letter neatly and tucked it into a drawer, a deliberate action, a ritual of control. Mark felt the familiar tightening of his shoulders, the prickling sensation that made his skin crawl. A sense of unease settled into the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t looking forward to this.

He went through his nightly routine: double-checking the locks, peering out the windows, ensuring that everything was where it should be. He was the architect of his safety, and no detail could be overlooked.

He lay in bed, unable to sleep, his mind racing. He rehearsed potential conversations, formulating responses to anticipated questions, preparing for the scrutiny.