Gemotions

The house felt cold, even with the central heating blasting. I sat on the porch, watching the leaves fall. The agent had said nothing about the previous owner, except that she'd been an "eccentric recluse." Found dead of a heart attack, the neighbour said. Murdered, the police said.

My appetite had vanished. I’d lost interest in everything. The sun felt too bright, the birdsong too cheerful. Every shadow seemed to stretch and twist, playing with my mind.

The silence was the worst, broken only by the distant hum of traffic. It was a silence that echoed the empty space inside me.