Gemotions

He slammed the apartment door shut, the sound echoing in the too-quiet hallway. His own apartment, a shoebox in a questionable neighborhood, seemed to shrink further in comparison. Inside his parents’ house, the air practically vibrated with calm. His father was at the grill, expertly flipping burgers, while his mother arranged a colorful salad on the patio table.

He felt a sudden, sharp ache in his chest, a feeling like a physical pressure. His sister, Emily, was seated on the porch swing with their mother, laughing at something he couldn’t hear. They were sharing a moment, a moment he hadn’t been a part of in years.

“How was your day, honey?” his mother called, her voice light and melodic. He muttered a response, feeling the weight of the question and the unspoken judgment it carried.