Gemotions

"Honey, I’m home!" Michael bellowed, his voice echoing in the empty, sun-drenched hallway. His chest felt buoyant, like he could lift off into the sky. He practically skipped through the living room, admiring the new hardwood floors. He couldn't stop smiling.

He spent the morning in the garden, meticulously trimming the rose bushes and planning his vegetable patch. The air hummed with the buzz of bees and the promise of summer. He felt a deep sense of belonging, a feeling that he finally found his place.

He later read the local newspaper’s archives; a short article. "Fatal shooting at residence," it stated, listing the address. His stomach clenched, his joy dissolving.