Gemotions

She’d been evasive lately. Brushing him off, claiming work. He knew her schedule; this didn't fit. He sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee that had gone cold. A tension vibrated in his limbs, an itch he couldn’t scratch.

The memory of the hurried phone call he’d overheard, a hushed voice on the other end, replayed in his mind. He’d tried to rationalize it, but the unease persisted. He pushed his chair back, the scrape against the linoleum loud in the quiet house.

He walked to the window, staring out at the rain-slicked street. The world outside seemed muffled, distant. He felt cut off, adrift. He felt a hollowness in his gut.