Gemotions

The ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed amplified in the silence. Elias sprawled on the floor in his old bedroom, surrounded by stacks of photo albums. He flicked through the pictures, each one a sharp jab of memory. He’d seen them all a thousand times.

He stretched out a hand, tracing the outline of a faded photograph. He felt a dull thrum of something like impatience within him. He'd finished the task of packing boxes a week ago. He’d said his goodbyes. There was nothing left to do but wait.

He picked up a pen and began to doodle aimlessly on the back of a photograph, filling the space with meaningless scribbles. The house was all but empty now. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight. He kicked a stray toy across the floor.

A wave of emptiness washed over him. He stood and walked to the window, gazing at the empty swing set in the backyard.