Gemotions

The silence in the apartment was deafening. John stared at the wall, the same wall he’d stared at for hours every day. He felt strangely listless, a kind of weariness that seemed to permeate his very bones. The prospect of another evening doing the same thing was almost unbearable. He needed something different. He opened his laptop, an act of mindless routine.

A local listing caught his attention. It was his childhood home, 18 Willow Avenue. He remembered the endless games played in the backyard. A knot formed in his stomach. He felt an undeniable urge to act, to move, to *do* something. The feeling surged through him, and he suddenly jumped up to get ready.