Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. He stared at the steaming mug, the warmth doing nothing to thaw the iciness spreading through him. His sister's words, still fresh, replayed in a loop. He had spent the morning walking the beach, watching the waves crash, but the rhythmic motion did nothing to calm the chaos inside. The endless blue of the ocean felt foreign, detached. He felt a deep, unspoken disappointment, a feeling that something precious had been irrevocably lost. He set the mug down with a clatter, the sound sharp in the quiet kitchen.