Gemotions

The silence in the house was oppressive. A stifling, suffocating blanket. I wandered through the rooms, touching objects, the worn surface of a favorite armchair, the smooth curve of a porcelain vase, feeling absolutely nothing. My neighbor, Mrs. Periwinkle, was finally getting her fence installed. I could see the men working from my window.

The television flickered uselessly, a cacophony of meaningless noise. Each episode of a familiar show was the same as the last. I clicked the remote, flipping channels, searching for something, anything, to pierce the haze. I felt a growing sense of frustration, a gnawing, internal… absence.

I got dressed, then changed clothes, and then began the process again. I couldn't seem to settle on anything. I finally went outside.