Gemotions

The phone call ended abruptly. Kevin’s words hung in the air, heavy and unwelcome. Mark was leaving. His grip on the phone, now silent, was tight.

He found himself unable to sit still, pacing the small confines of his apartment. His hands were restless, picking at the skin around his fingernails. He repeated Mark's words to himself, over and over, as if to find some sort of hidden meaning.

He made a cup of coffee, but left it to grow cold on the counter, the aroma now meaningless. He stared out the window, at the world moving on, oblivious to the seismic shift within him.