Gemotions

He stared at the blank screen, the cursor blinking like a mocking eye. The silence of the apartment was suffocating, amplified by the ticking clock on the wall. He'd tried to write, to create, but the words wouldn't come. His parents had been thrilled when he'd asked if he could move back in. He was equally thrilled, at first.

"Want to watch the game, son?" his father had asked, earlier. He'd mumbled a polite refusal, retreating to his room. The game sounded lively from the other side of the wall. He could imagine his parents huddled together, laughing.

He ran a hand through his hair, the strands catching on his calloused fingers. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes. He longed for connection, for someone, anyone, to share the weight of the day with.