Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in Michael's hand. He ran his hand through his hair, pacing in a small, tight circle. He'd just gotten off the phone with David, who was relocating to Florida. The news had hit him like a physical blow. He stopped, leaned against the kitchen counter, and stared blankly at the wall.

He pictured the places they frequented, the places David would no longer be. A cold, unsettling sensation spread from his stomach, an unpleasant feeling that was creeping into his limbs. His chest felt constricted, making it difficult to breathe. Each memory - each inside joke, each shared struggle - now took on a heavy, weighted quality, as if it were holding him down.

He felt a deep sense of disconnect as if he were trying to recall a dream, the details fading and morphing into unrecognizable shapes. He picked up his phone, his finger hovering over David's number, but he didn't call.