Gemotions

He stared at the package, a small, square box wrapped in plain brown paper. It had arrived just this morning, postmarked from a town he vaguely recognized as the student’s hometown. Inside, nestled in tissue paper, was a smooth, grey stone, etched with a single, looping symbol. He picked it up, feeling a disconnect from his own hand.

The air around him seemed to thicken. He found himself walking in circles in his living room, checking locks on doors and windows repeatedly. A cold dread seeped into his bones. He knew he should unpack the groceries he’d bought, but the thought of opening the fridge made his stomach churn. The weight of the stone felt heavy in his palm, a tangible reminder of something lost, something he couldn't grasp.