Gemotions

He stared at the boxes piled in the hallway, the cardboard smelling of dust and forgotten things. Mark ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he still did. The walls, once so familiar, now seemed to press in on him.

His father called from the living room, “You gonna unpack, or just stand there admiring the view?” The gruffness was familiar, comforting in its way, yet also… unsettling.

Mark shifted from foot to foot. He’d pictured this differently, a triumphant return after conquering the world. Instead, he felt… adrift. He grabbed a box marked "Books" and began to cut the tape, a sense of disquiet settling in his chest.