Gemotions

He stared at the ornate mailbox at the end of the driveway, the gold lettering reflecting the afternoon sun. Mr. Davies, the quiet man who lived next door and always offered a friendly wave. He saw the new, security camera. He felt a heavy thud in his chest, a sensation that made his limbs feel heavy.

He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging a few strands. He kept seeing Davies' face, his polite smile. The image felt distorted and misleading. He had always taken Davies at face value. Now, it felt like a deception.

He retreated inside, finding solace in the mundane task of making a cup of tea, the routine a pale attempt to regain some sense of order.