Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator. The rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock. These were the only sounds that accompanied Arthur as he explored the house. He moved slowly, deliberately, his movements filled with purpose, but with a surprising lack of urgency.

He touched everything. The smooth surface of the dining table. The cool glass of the china cabinet. He found the old record player in the living room and carefully chose a record, placing the needle gently onto the vinyl.

The music filled the room, a gentle melody that seemed to weave through the very walls. Arthur closed his eyes, the music transporting him. He felt as though he could stay here forever, lost in the present moment, completely at peace.