Gemotions

He wandered from room to room, the echo of his footsteps amplifying the silence. The house, freshly purchased, felt like a mausoleum. He ran his hand over the cold, smooth plaster of the hallway wall, a habit developed over years of living alone, a way to anchor himself in the present. The recent loss felt like a weight, pressing down, making it difficult to breathe. He’d started to avoid the upstairs rooms, the memories clinging to the air like a heavy perfume. That's why he was surprised to find himself in the basement. He pushed on a loose panel, its edge dusty from neglect, and it swung inward. A narrow staircase descended into darkness.