Gemotions

He stared at the TV screen, the celebratory music grating on his nerves. "Introducing, The Baron's Beer-Battered Fish!" the host exclaimed, holding up a golden, perfectly-fried piece of fish. It was his batter, perfected over years of experimentation, a recipe he'd shared with the arrogant owner of a nearby pub.

A wave of nausea washed over him. He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, his knuckles white. The small apartment seemed to shrink around him, the walls closing in. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of his own inadequacy.

The phone rang, the sound echoing through the small space. It was his landlord, demanding rent. He ignored it. He was incapable of anything more than the quiet, debilitating ache that filled his every moment.