Gemotions

The silence, when it came, was almost worse. It was the absence of sound that amplified the unsettling feeling that had taken root. Michael stood in his hallway, staring at the front door. He should go out, speak to someone, do *something*.

His hands were trembling. He’d forgotten to eat. Forgotten to drink. Forgotten… everything. He ran a hand through his hair, a useless gesture. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was about to fall, to shatter into a million pieces.

He heard the creak of the gate next door. The fence was finished. A tall, imposing barrier. He took a few hesitant steps towards the door, then stopped. He found himself unable to move. A new kind of quiet settled on his shoulders, a silence that felt heavier than the hammering, that felt like an eternity.