Gemotions

He'd wanted a quiet life. The new house was supposed to be the answer, a sanctuary from the noise and chaos. He stared at the newly painted walls, feeling the familiar pressure in his temples. He was going over the blueprints again, trying to find a reason to like the place. He was in the den, and, idly, he was turning the handle on the fireplace, when something didn’t feel right.

He pressed the cold stone, and it gave. A small, dark room revealed itself. Inside, a single, unopened letter lay on a small desk. He was not interested in what it said. He slammed the fireplace shut.