Gemotions

He stared at the images of his daughter's life, the parties, the friends, the jokes. He knew none of these people. He felt a stab, a sharp pang that took his breath away. He should have known. He should have been there.

He ran his hand through his hair, leaving it a mess. The neat order of the living room, which he usually found comforting, now seemed sterile and alien. The muted tones of the furniture suddenly appeared to mock him. He closed his eyes, and a wave of something washed over him, a feeling that clawed at his insides.

He opened his eyes, feeling the weight of the silence in the house. The setting sun was casting long shadows, further darkening the already dim space.