Gemotions

The crackling fireplace cast dancing shadows on the living room walls. David leaned back in his favorite armchair, the worn leather molding to his shape. He recalled his father reading him bedtime stories right in that very room. A chill, unrelated to the fire, snaked up his spine as he looked at the report. A hidden compartment, found behind the fireplace. He felt the cold seep into his bones, the warmth of the fire becoming a stark contrast. The details of the crime, so cold and clinical, seemed to mock the warmth of the room. He reached for the remote, finding himself turning up the volume on the television.