Gemotions

He didn't say a word. He just stood there, his face an impassive mask, the news echoing inside his skull. His gaze locked onto the worn wooden floorboards, their familiar patterns suddenly distorted, blurred.

The room seemed to shrink, the air becoming thick and heavy. A tremor ran through him, a barely perceptible shudder that started at his toes and worked its way up his spine. He couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't even manage a single blink.

His friend, across the room, was speaking, their voice a distant drone. He wanted to shout, to scream, to somehow stop the words from forming, to stop the world from crumbling around him. But all he could do was stand there, frozen, the silence amplifying the storm inside.