Gemotions

The old house creaked and groaned around him, a symphony of forgotten memories. He sat by the dying fire, the flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. He had found the wallet during his walk. It was almost empty.

He was adrift, untethered from the world. His life had become an endless cycle of disappointment. He was forever trying to outrun the demons from his past.

He tossed another log onto the fire, watching it crackle and spit. He felt a pang of something he couldn't name. He felt empty. He had a duty to make things right. He got up and put his coat on.