Gemotions

The familiar squeak of the front door opening and closing grated on Liam's nerves. He was sprawled on the couch, the remote clutched in his hand. He’d barely found a decent program. His father’s booming "I'm home!" echoed through the house, a sound Liam had hoped he’d never hear again from behind his parents' door.

Liam lowered the volume and rolled his eyes, but his father kept talking. His voice was too loud, too enthusiastic. Liam imagined him, grinning foolishly, oblivious to everything. He looked at his cluttered surroundings with a fresh lens. His father’s things were everywhere: the worn armchair, the outdated magazines, the heavy wooden furniture.

He flipped to another channel and let out a sigh. Everything felt suffocating.