Gemotions

He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the lines around his eyes deeper than he remembered. It had been years since he’d lived in this house. The tiled walls, the chipped enamel of the bathtub, the mundane fixtures all seemed to amplify his sense of dislocation.

He turned on the faucet, letting the cold water run over his hands. The sound, familiar yet alien, echoed in the small space. He closed his eyes, remembering the arguments, the laughter, the shared secrets whispered in the dead of night.

A profound sense of inadequacy settled over him. He was a visitor in his own past, a ghost wandering through the rooms of his youth. The water felt cold, cleansing, but it didn’t wash away the ghosts.