Gemotions

The first thing David did was walk back to his apartment and check all the locks. He repeatedly tested them, pulling on the handle, pushing on the door, as if the physical act could somehow fortify him against the change. He then went to the kitchen and made a pot of strong black coffee, the familiar aroma a weak attempt at comfort.

His mind was a whirlwind of anxieties. How would he manage? What would he do? The thought of leaving his cozy unit made his head swim.

He sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the steaming mug. He kept picking at the peeling paint of the table.