Gemotions

The tap dripped, a relentless metronome counting down the hours. The party – cancelled. He couldn't shake the feeling of being utterly alone. The apartment, once a haven, now felt like a prison. He ran his hand over the countertop, tracing the familiar patterns in the granite, finding no comfort there.

He wandered through the rooms, picking up and putting down objects, as if searching for a lost connection. He picked up his guitar, the instrument feeling heavier than usual. He thought about the music he had planned to play, and the smile it could have brought to the faces of the people who would never hear it.

He put the guitar back down and stared into the mirror, the person staring back a stranger.