Gemotions

The keys felt heavy in his pocket. He stared at them, wondering which one unlocked which door. The house felt smaller, the walls closing in. He'd lived here as a child, but now, it was a museum, filled with artifacts from a life he could no longer grasp.

His mother bustled past him, a whirlwind of activity. "Did you take your medication?" she asked, her voice sharp with concern. He didn't answer, wasn't sure what medication, or even if he'd taken any. He felt like he was floating, untethered.

He walked into the living room, and sat down on the sofa, but immediately sprung back up. He paced back and forth, feeling as though he were trapped in a box. Everything felt wrong, as if the world was on a different speed setting than he was.