Gemotions

The kitchen smelled of stale coffee. He stared at the half-finished crossword puzzle, the words blurring before his eyes. Dr. Silva, his long-time patient and confidant, had retired without notification. The receptionist simply said that the doctor had left without word.

His hands fidgeted with the pen, a sense of aimlessness pervading his every movement. The crossword, once a source of intellectual stimulation, felt like an insurmountable obstacle. He abandoned the puzzle and rose, his legs feeling unsteady.

He walked to the window, the rain-swept street mirroring the desolation inside. The world seemed to lack focus, and his usual sense of purpose had evaporated.