Gemotions

The chill of the night air seemed to seep into David’s bones as he stepped out of his house. His car was gone. His breath hitched in his throat. He looked at the empty space as if it were a physical wound.

He hadn't spoken to a soul all day. He had imagined this feeling, the slow, simmering ache. The world’s color seemed washed out. He wanted the comfort of someone, anyone. He realized he didn't have anyone close enough.

He walked back inside, the slam of the door echoing in the house. His hands were shaking. He went to the kitchen and made a cup of tea, the silence of the house pressing against him like a physical weight.