Gemotions

"Ugh," Mark groaned, flopping onto the cracked leather armchair. The house felt too quiet, too still. He’d spent the morning inspecting the faded wallpaper in the dining room, tracing the floral pattern with his fingertip. It had been, he realized with a pang, a complete waste of time.

He stared at the television screen, then switched it off. The silence that followed felt heavier. He considered calling his friends but didn't feel like it. He glanced out the window, at the long, uncut lawn, and then at his own feet. It was a perfect day, he knew. And yet…

"I need to leave this place," he muttered, getting to his feet.