Gemotions

The weight of the disclosure settled on Mark like a physical burden. He felt a profound disorientation, a sense of falling, even though he stood perfectly still in his newly-painted dining room. He’d just completed the painting himself. Now, the fresh coat of sky blue felt tainted.

He stared at the detective, his mouth hanging open. The man’s polite explanation, about a burglary gone wrong, seemed to echo in his ears, a distorted record.

He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. Everything, the house, his life, felt suddenly, horribly…wrong.