Gemotions

The soft glow of the lava lamp cast dancing colors on the walls. He sat cross-legged on his bed, carefully sorting through his collection of vintage vinyl records. The worn covers and the promise of music to come always soothed him. The world was quiet and still.

His roommate, Mark, entered, whistling a jaunty tune. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes sweeping the room, coming to rest on the notebook sitting open on the desk. He felt a sudden chill, a sense of something shifting in the air. Mark's eyebrows rose slightly.