Gemotions

The weight of the house settled on Mark’s shoulders, a crushing burden he hadn’t expected. The detective's visit had ended hours ago, but the details replayed on a loop in his head. The victim. The unanswered questions. He walked through the rooms, tracing the walls with his fingertips, searching for… what? Answers? Absolution?

He sat down on the front porch, suddenly drained. He looked out at the garden. It seemed tainted, even in its sunny tranquility. The vibrant blooms felt muted, their colors dull. He couldn't shake the image of the police tape, the glaring flashbulbs. He'd never be able to enjoy it in quite the same way.