Gemotions

The house felt too quiet. He wandered from room to room, the silence pressing in on him. He picked up his father's old pipe, ran his fingers over the smooth wood. His father had died five years ago. Now, he was living in the same house.

He found himself staring at his reflection in the hallway mirror. He didn't recognize the man staring back. Was this really him? He hadn't aged, but it felt like he was looking at a ghost.

His mother, her face etched with a look he couldn't define, entered the room. She started talking, but the words were a jumble, a meaningless noise.

He closed his eyes.