Gemotions

"Are you sure you packed everything?" Sarah's voice echoed in the hallway, though it seemed miles away. Mark couldn't place it. He kept fiddling with the knobs on the radio, unable to find a clear signal. He had been a ham radio operator since he was a kid. Now, his daughter, Chloe, was the one glued to the microphone, speaking in Morse code with a fluency he’d never achieved.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn’t used in years. His stomach felt like a tangled ball of wire. The static crackled, a constant assault on his senses. He kept glancing at Chloe, her face illuminated by the radio’s green glow, her brow creased with concentration. Her room, once his sanctuary, now felt like a foreign land. He had no control over the switches, the controls, the world of buzzing frequencies.