Gemotions

The coffee tasted flat. The email, waiting in his inbox, was even flatter. It was the subject line that made him tense, the words a direct insult. His old house. On the market. He closed his eyes.

He clicked on the link. The photos. The bright, sterile rooms. It all felt wrong. It felt invasive. He felt his hands balling into fists, the nails digging into his palms.

He turned off the computer. The silence in the room was deafening. He rose from his chair, his movements stiff and deliberate. He needed to be anywhere but here.