Gemotions

The soft melody of a Debussy piece drifted from the speakers as Henry tidied his study. He'd spent the morning reorganizing his books, a task that always brought a sense of order to his soul. The sunlight illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air. He felt a deep sense of contentment, of things being precisely as they should be.

He decided to go to a museum. But his car was gone. He looked at the sign, then back at the empty driveway. His eyes narrowed slightly, then he sighed. "Well, that's inconvenient," he said aloud. He paused, then returned to his study and sat down in his armchair, ready to continue reading.