Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the freshly painted walls mocked Leo’s grey mood. He felt as if he were underwater, the world muffled and distant. He walked from room to room, the vastness of the house amplifying his isolation. He hadn’t felt the desire to do anything, really, in months.

He was leaning against the fireplace in the living room, running his fingers along the stone, when he felt a shift. He prodded at a loose stone, and it gave way. Behind it, a hidden door.

The room was filled with books, the air smelling of aged paper and leather. He picked up a volume of poetry and flipped through the pages. The words felt like distant echoes, but, at least, they were something.