Gemotions

The empty chair across from him mocked him. It was always there, filled with Professor Davies during their weekly chess sessions. Now, it was just…nothing. He ran a hand over the polished wood, the silence in the room pressing in on him. He felt hollow, as if a vital organ had been removed without his knowledge.

His heart pounded in his chest, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. He stood up, pacing back and forth, the familiar chessboard suddenly a landscape of impossible choices. He couldn't focus. Each square blurred into the next. He felt suffocated by the air.

He went to the window, the sunlight reflecting off the pane. Davies had taught him to think strategically, to anticipate the next move. Now, he felt utterly blindsided. He sank back into his own chair, his shoulders slumping. He felt a deep, unfamiliar ache.