Gemotions

"Here, let me carry that," his mother said, reaching for his duffel bag. John flinched, pulling the bag closer. He hadn't needed his mother to carry his luggage since he was… well, since he wasn't six. The offer felt like a direct assault on his independence.

His old bedroom was now a guest room, he found. He had to set up his things in the guest room and share a bathroom with his parents. His childhood toys were now in the attic, gathering dust alongside the remnants of a life he'd tried so hard to build. He felt like a stranger in his own family home, out of place and unwelcome, even though his parents had been perfectly amiable.

Later, he sat on the edge of the bed, the thin mattress unfamiliar and uncomfortable. The silence of the house was punctuated only by the occasional creak and groan. He pulled out his laptop, staring at the blank screen, the endless possibilities of his online career feeling more like a vast, empty wasteland. He wanted to scream.