Gemotions

He stared at the screen, scrolling through the evidence. Blackwood's words, his words, ripped from his own online forum posts and repurposed. A flicker of something, a slight tightening in his chest. But it quickly dissipated.

He clicked the ‘report’ button on a spam email. He went and made dinner, the chopping and stirring a familiar ritual. He ate, not savoring or bemoaning the food, just existing. He went to bed, and slept.

The next morning, the news was old news. He got up and dressed, and prepared for the day ahead.