Gemotions

The paperwork lay scattered on the kitchen table, a jumble of legal jargon and bureaucratic demands. Mark pushed the papers aside, the effort leaving him breathless. His sister, Jessica, was in the living room, humming as she began unpacking boxes, a symphony of sounds that grated on his nerves.

He ran a hand through his hair. The house, his grandmother’s house, was his now. A responsibility, a burden. He should feel something. Gratitude, perhaps. Nostalgia, even. Instead, he felt a strange hollowness, a complete lack of feeling.

The world seemed muted, colors dulled. He found himself staring out the window at the garden, the weeds growing unchecked. The thought of gardening, of any kind of physical exertion, filled him with a sense of dread. He sat there, staring at the garden, the silence of the house amplifying the emptiness inside him.