Gemotions

The morning light, a stark white glare, pierced the darkness of his room. He squinted, hating the insistent brightness. Getting up, even to draw the curtains, seemed like too much.

A cacophony of metal on metal filled the silence. He feigned deafness, hoping the noise would simply stop. But the clamor did not cease. It grew louder, and then, abruptly, ended.

The driveway outside was now a barren expanse. The car was gone. He looked at it, and then at the floor, and then, back at the ceiling. The whole mess felt like someone else's problem.