Gemotions

The delivery person practically shoved the box at him, grumbling about the weight. "For the old tenant," the guy had said, as if it were a chore he was tired of. He barely registered the information, just wanting the door to shut.

It was addressed to "Mr. Johnson." He ripped the package open. It contained a jigsaw puzzle: a vibrant picture of a bustling city street. He glanced at the pieces, scattered on the table, feeling a dull ache in his chest. A puzzle required… patience. And focus. Both were in short supply.

He left the puzzle pieces where they lay and walked over to the window, staring blankly at the street below. The scene felt both familiar and strangely alien. The world was moving on. He wasn’t.