Gemotions

He’d always loved old houses, with their secrets and stories, but this one, this was different. The detective had been polite, but his words had held a specific gravity: The house was where a young couple had been found murdered. The discovery felt like a physical blow to Henry. He was a lonely man, having recently lost his wife. He'd hoped to find solace in the house, to build a new life in its aged rooms.

He walked through the silent rooms, his footsteps echoing in the empty space. Every shadow held a darker shape, every corner a place of unspoken sorrow. He touched the walls, the cool plaster a reminder of the darkness that had stained them.

He went to sit on the front porch, the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. He stared at the vibrant colors, the beauty of the world, and he felt his own desolation rising to meet it.