Gemotions

He stared at the screen, the words blurring before his eyes. "Likely Match: Michael Harding." He knew no one named Michael Harding. He’d meticulously planned for this, imagined different scenarios, but this… this wasn’t on the list.

A strange tightness gripped his chest. He felt a phantom pain, a dull ache in a place he didn’t even know. His hands were clammy, and he wiped them nervously on his jeans. The comfort of his familiar surroundings – the worn armchair, the half-finished crossword – seemed to offer no solace.

He walked over to the window, the city lights below now a jumble of meaningless shapes and colors. He felt a profound sense of isolation, adrift in a sea of unknowns. He took a long, unsteady breath, the air tasting thin and metallic.