Gemotions

The sun was shining, but Thomas barely registered it. He was a prisoner in his own home. He wandered from room to room, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The sight of the account details had triggered a numbness, a feeling of detachment that had begun to consume him.

He picked up a framed photograph of them, smiling and carefree, a time that felt like a lifetime ago. A bitter taste filled his mouth. He looked at the details again, the numbers and dates, each line a reminder of the chasm that had opened between them.

He knew she wouldn’t understand. He felt a lump in his throat. He longed to communicate, yet he knew the words wouldn't come. He collapsed on the couch, pulling a blanket over himself. The room felt cold, even with the central heating on full blast.