Gemotions

Michael was sitting on his porch swing, listening to the birds chirp, sipping his iced tea. The world felt calm, the day felt perfect. It was the perfect weather to go and grab some ice cream at the local shop, a place he'd visited every weekend for years. The shop always had a soothing effect on him. He picked up the newspaper.

The ice cream shop was closing its doors. Michael's hand stopped moving. The birds’ song seemed to turn shrill. The porch swing seemed to creak with a sudden, mournful rhythm.