Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the supermarket buzzed overhead, a sound that grated on David's nerves. He pushed the shopping cart aimlessly down the aisles, picking up items he didn't really need. He’d seen Sarah earlier. She'd been with someone, a woman with bright red lipstick and cascading blonde hair. They’d laughed, their heads bent close together, and David had quickly turned away, feigning interest in the price of artichoke hearts.

His apartment felt cavernous when he got home. The silence was a heavy blanket, muffling every sound. He tossed the groceries on the counter, the clatter echoing in the stillness. He pulled out a dusty photo album, his fingers tracing the outline of a faded picture. A younger Sarah, grinning at the camera, her arm looped around his shoulder. He sat on the sofa, the weight of the day pressing down on him, and found himself staring at the wall.

He ate his dinner in front of the television, the flickering images providing a distraction, but the emptiness in the pit of his stomach remained, untouched, a constant companion. He ate slowly, each bite a reminder.