Gemotions

The sun streamed through the window, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. John sat in his armchair, the letter resting on his knee. He'd known the day would come, the memory of the incident still fresh in his mind. But the actual moment of receiving the written expression still took him by surprise. He felt as if his very bones were humming.

His eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail with an intense focus he rarely experienced. The painting on the wall, the worn rug, the way the light fell on the polished wood. Everything felt sharper, more defined.

He had to move. He stood, his legs feeling strangely unsteady. He felt a sudden urge to clean, to rearrange, to… something.