Gemotions

He’d always considered himself a practical man. But now, the knowledge that a brutal assault had occurred in his meticulously renovated kitchen turned his stomach. He felt a wave of coldness wash over him, settling in the pit of his gut. His wife’s excited chatter about new curtains faded into a muffled drone.

He ran a hand over the smooth, granite countertop, the coldness of the stone mirroring his own. He pictured the scene, a grim tableau playing out in his mind, and felt the blood drain from his face. A tremor ran through him.

"Are you alright, dear?" His wife's concerned voice broke through his reverie, her hand resting on his arm. He swallowed hard, forcing a smile. “Just… tired.”