Gemotions

The first night back, David lay in his old bed, the springs groaning beneath him. He was supposed to be a success, a self-made man. Now, he was back in his childhood bedroom, surrounded by Star Wars memorabilia and the faint smell of mothballs.

He stared at the ceiling, the glow-in-the-dark stars he'd stuck up as a kid, now faded and chipped. His phone buzzed; a text from a former colleague, a casual query about his whereabouts. He ignored it.

David felt an awful sort of disorientation. His mind was a blank slate. He felt a weird, profound, emptiness inside. He pulled the covers over his head, trying to shut out the world.