Gemotions

The magazine lay open on the coffee table. His essay, "The Lighthouse Keeper's Grief," about his grandmother and the way she had tended the lighthouse while she slowly lost her mind, was featured. He remembered the hours spent writing, trying to capture the vastness of the ocean and the loneliness of the job.

The room seemed to shrink. He felt a wave of nausea. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his hands were shaking. He felt like he had been hollowed out. He was just an empty shell.

He got up and walked to the window, staring out at the rain. Everything was too bright, too loud. He put his hands on the window, letting the cold glass press against his forehead.