Gemotions

The house felt hollow, echoing with a silence that screamed louder than any noise. He wandered through the rooms, the furniture draped in white sheets. He'd been looking for something… he couldn't remember what. A metal box lay on the bookshelf. Inside, a leather-bound book. His mother’s handwriting, familiar and startling. "Write a novel."

He felt the blood drain from his face. The room seemed to expand and contract, the walls breathing. A sharp pain shot through his temples. He felt a sudden, inexplicable need to move, to run, to escape the suffocating weight of it all. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know why.