Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the morning felt wrong. He'd been listless, staring at the ceiling, the light causing a dull ache behind his eyes. Even the chirping birds outside, usually a source of joy, now felt irritating, a reminder of a world he couldn't connect with.

A metallic grinding pierced the quiet. He stumbled to the window, a premonition settling in the pit of his stomach. Sure enough, his vintage sports car, meticulously cared for, was being hauled away. A small sign on the curb announced construction starting that day.

He clenched his fists, but the anger was a flicker, quickly extinguished. He simply turned away, the familiar weight returning, settling over him like a shroud.