Gemotions

He stared at the blank TV screen. The remote felt heavy in his hand, a dead weight. The house was too quiet. Too empty. Last night, he’d found Amelia talking on the phone in the garage. She'd immediately ended the call as he approached, a flush of color high on her cheeks.

Peter felt a pang of resentment, a deep, pervasive dissatisfaction. He stood up abruptly and started pacing. The worn carpet offered no solace. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture conveying his mounting frustrations.

The air around him seemed to thicken, making it difficult to breathe. He needed something, anything, to break the monotony.