Gemotions

He was on a business trip, far from home, when the news hit. A colleague showed him the article, a sneer twisting his lips. He excused himself, retreating to his hotel room.

He didn’t read the entire article. He didn't have the energy. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the muted television. The room felt sterile, impersonal. He found his journal, the one he had written in when he was a teenager. He ran his hand across the cover.

He thought about the past. He thought about the present. He thought about the future. His expression didn't change. It was a blank slate. He called room service and ordered a sandwich. The world outside seemed less important.