Gemotions

The house felt cold, even with the fireplace blazing. He sat on the sofa, clutching a mug of lukewarm coffee, the steam doing nothing to warm the chill that permeated his bones. The silence of the house was deafening.

He'd found the boxes in the basement, hidden behind an old workbench. Inside, were the remnants of his childhood: school projects, book reports, handwritten notes. He picked up a drawing of a spaceship, his face flushed with the memory of excitement and imagination.

He closed his eyes, the past a distant echo. The world seemed to have lost its color, and he felt a deep sorrow, a persistent ache for the comfort and love that were now gone. He set the drawing down and stared blankly at the flames.