Gemotions

He stared at the screen, the image of the house a cruel mockery of his memories. The listing’s pristine photos, each room perfect and unlived-in, mocked the comfortable chaos he remembered. He felt a shiver, a cold trickle down his spine that made him want to pull the covers up. He instinctively reached for his phone, dialing the number he knew by heart. It rang, each unanswered chime a hammer blow to his chest.

The coffee he'd poured hours ago sat cold on the table, another unfinished task to add to the pile. He felt the familiar weight of inertia settle in his bones, the paralysis that always seemed to creep in when things got difficult. He knew he should be doing something, anything, but the energy seemed to have leached from him, leaving him hollowed out. A deep sigh escaped his lips. He was lost.

He closed his eyes, the image of the house seared into his eyelids. He imagined the way the sunlight hit the kitchen table in the morning, the way his father’s voice echoed in the hallway. He felt the all-consuming longing.