Gemotions

The house was too quiet. The phone call had ended, the words hanging in the air like a noxious fumes. He wandered from room to room, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. Every object seemed to mock him with its normalcy.

He picked up a framed photograph of his friends. Their smiling faces felt distant, unreal. He tossed it back onto the table, the glass rattling. Everything felt out of sync, off-kilter. The world had tilted on its axis.

He skipped lunch. The thought of eating anything was revolting. He retreated to his room and lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. The blankness was endless. He just wanted the day to be over.