Gemotions

He hadn't slept in two days. The blinds in Mark’s living room were drawn, but the streetlights still managed to cast long, eerie shadows. The renovations at the end house were complete. The sheer, gilded grandeur was nauseating. He felt a deep unease.

He kept replaying the scene in his head: the casual handshake, the seemingly innocent conversations, the gentle smile. He’d misread everything. He’d trusted too easily.

He rose from the couch, his limbs feeling heavy and sluggish. He walked to the window, peering through a crack in the blinds. He felt a cold sweat break out across his forehead. His world had shifted. Everything seemed different now. Everything felt off.