Gemotions

He stared at the spreadsheet, the numbers blurring before his eyes. The job, the endless meetings, the constant striving – it was all a blur. He felt like a cog in a machine, endlessly turning. The house, with its sterile modern design, seemed to reflect the coldness of his life.

While attempting to install a new light fixture in the master bedroom, he noticed a strange indentation in the wall. He tapped it with a hammer, and a section of the plaster gave way.

Behind the plaster, a narrow doorway led to a small room filled with shelves. The shelves were packed with old photographs, each one a window into a life he’d never lived. He picked up a framed photograph of a young woman, her smile a beacon of something he'd lost.