Gemotions

The city outside the window roared with noise, but inside the small apartment, a different kind of quiet reigned. Mark sat on the couch, the television flickering but unheard. He'd spent the morning staring at the ceiling, the afternoon wandering aimlessly. A sense of… a lack of purpose weighed him down. He reached for a random book from the coffee table, a collection of short stories.

A small, sealed envelope fell out. Inside, a single key. It wasn't labelled, and there was no accompanying message. The key was small, tarnished with age. He turned it over in his hand, the metal cool against his skin. A question formed in his mind: What door did it open? He began to consider all the possibilities.