Gemotions

The house smelled of mothballs and stale air, a scent that transported him back to a childhood he hadn't wanted to revisit. He sank into an armchair, his body heavy with an invisible burden.

His phone buzzed with notifications, each one a reminder of the connections he’d severed. He ignored them, the thought of social interaction feeling like a colossal effort. He simply wanted to be left alone.

His mother placed a cup of tea on the side table, her face creased with concern. He forced a smile, but it felt brittle, like a mask that could crack at any moment.