Gemotions

The old house felt colder than usual. David wandered through the living room, a ghost in his own home. He remembered writing in the journal, recounting his beloved grandmother’s final days, his clumsy, adolescent attempts at understanding loss. Now, those intimate details, the raw honesty, were available for anyone to read. He sat in her rocking chair, the rhythmic creak a painful reminder of her absence. He felt a hollowness expand in his chest, a vacuum sucking the air from his lungs. Each tick of the grandfather clock resonated within him.