Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windows, mirroring the incessant drumming in Arthur’s chest. He stared out, watching the water sheet down the glass, blurring the already muted colors of the autumnal garden. A dull ache settled in his shoulders, a weight he couldn’t seem to shrug off, no matter how he tried. He’d been trying to feel something, anything, besides this… emptiness.

His realtor had called earlier. "Just a formality," she'd said. "A little paperwork." He'd signed, without reading. Now, he wished he had. Apparently, his charming Victorian had been the site of a long-unsolved disappearance.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, the touch listless. He sank into the armchair, the worn velvet cool against his skin. This beautiful house, now… tarnished. He hadn’t felt this profoundly uninspired since his divorce. The walls felt like they were closing in.