Gemotions

"Oh, for heaven’s sake," Arthur muttered, running a hand through his thinning hair. He watched the scene from his kitchen window – the uprooted tree lay sprawled across the yard next door like a forgotten toy. A leaden sensation weighed him down. His appetite had disappeared a week ago.

He thought of his late wife, Agnes, and her love for nature. She would have been heartbroken. A weight settled on his chest, like a physical manifestation of his sorrow.

Arthur started to make himself a cup of tea, the clinking of the kettle seeming to echo the hollowness within him. The world felt muted, lacking its usual vibrancy.

He didn't bother to turn on the radio. The silence was easier to bear.