Gemotions

A comfortable stillness settled over David as he lounged on his sofa, the afternoon light painting stripes across his bare feet. He cradled a glass of amber liquid, swirling the ice thoughtfully. The silence of the apartment was a soothing balm, broken only by the gentle ticking of the antique clock on the mantelpiece.

He flipped through a well-worn book of poetry, pausing at a particularly poignant verse. The air smelled faintly of pipe tobacco and the leather-bound book. A chuckle escaped him, remembering a shared joke with a friend.

A sharp rap on the door echoed through the quiet space. David frowned slightly. He rose and slowly walked to the door.