Gemotions

Mark sat at his kitchen table, a half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of him. The textbook, emblazoned with the college logo, lay open. The title of his essay, "The Architecture of Dreams," stared up at him. He felt a sudden chill, despite the warm summer morning.

He pushed the bowl away, the clatter echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a few stray strands of cereal. He felt a strange pull in his gut, a disquieting sensation. He wanted to understand, to know how this happened, but the thoughts raced in his head.

He got up and wandered to the window, looking out into the backyard. He felt the need to fill the empty space, to reassert control. He noticed a weed sticking out from the neatly manicured lawn and went out to pull it.