Gemotions

He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a soothing metronome against the sudden stillness. The removal truck, a hulking metal beast, rumbled down the street, its journey a harbinger of the change to come. A single bead of sweat traced a lazy path down Liam's temple, but he made no effort to wipe it away. He stared at the moving men carrying furniture from the house next door. They were taking everything.

His best friend, Finn, had told him yesterday. He was going to California. Liam remembered the conversation; Finn had been buzzing with excitement, but it was just a low ache in his chest. Now, he just observed. He felt a profound sense of inertia, a sluggishness that weighed on his limbs, his thoughts. The swing swayed, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the old maple tree in the yard.