Gemotions

He stared at the blueprints, the stark lines and angles representing the destruction of everything he knew. The demolition was inevitable, a cold, hard fact. He felt as though he was moving through molasses, each movement an immense effort. He couldn't find the motivation to do anything.

He had spent the last week in a haze, barely sleeping, barely eating. He picked up the phone to call his father but didn't know what to say. He looked at the family portraits, the faces of his loved ones staring back at him. He set the blueprints on fire. The flames made him feel nothing.