Gemotions

The photos showed a gleaming kitchen, a far cry from the cramped, avocado-green one he remembered. He traced the outline of the house with his finger on the screen. It was all so… different. He felt a hollowness in his stomach.

He remembered the chipped paint on the windowsill where he used to sit and read, the way the sunlight would slant across the page. He recalled the comforting weight of his dog curled up at his feet. They were all gone, swept away by the relentless tide of time.

He felt a strange, disconnected feeling, as if he were watching a movie about someone else's life. He leaned back in his chair, the office lights reflecting in his eyes, and a deep sigh escaped his lips. He was suddenly bone-tired.