Gemotions

John had always considered himself a practical man. Now, standing in his newly renovated kitchen, he felt a knot tighten in his chest. The detective, a stern woman with tired eyes, had shown him the autopsy report. The victim had been found right here, next to where his new island now sat.

He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tangling. The vibrant, newly painted walls seemed to press in on him. He abruptly stepped back, colliding with the counter. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth. He blinked, tasting phantom iron. He had to get out, now.