Gemotions

The flickering candlelight danced across the table, illuminating the remnants of a half-eaten dinner. He pushed his plate away, the food suddenly tasteless. He'd been looking forward to this evening, to a quiet meal while re-reading his favorite passages from "Starfall." Now, the words seemed to taunt him.

He felt an unsettling tremor in his hands. He picked up his glass of wine, the ruby liquid doing little to warm him. The author's voice, once so clear and compelling, was now a fractured echo in his mind. He lowered his gaze, unable to meet the intensity of the flames.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words caught in his throat. He just sat, the silence of the room amplifying his distress.