Gemotions

The afternoon dragged on, each minute an eternity. Ethan sat in his childhood bedroom, staring at the posters that had adorned his walls for years. They felt foreign, relics of a life that no longer felt relevant. He felt a deep, unsettling feeling.

He picked up a guitar, the strings dusty and untuned. He strummed a few chords, the sounds flat and lifeless. He put it back down, the motion heavy with disinterest.

He looked around the room. He felt restless, but with no particular destination in mind. He felt… adrift, as if he'd lost his anchor and was slowly, inevitably, being swept out to sea.