Gemotions

The car ride back from the farewell dinner was the longest he had ever experienced. The scenery blurred past, a kaleidoscope of colors that made him feel sick. The music on the radio, usually a welcome distraction, felt like an assault on his ears. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

He pulled up to his house, and the silence that greeted him was even worse. He walked inside, kicking off his shoes, and the emptiness of the house was so palpable it almost felt solid. He threw himself on the couch, not caring that he hadn't changed clothes, or brushed his teeth.

The ceiling seemed to swirl, the walls closing in. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, the shadows cast by the streetlights outside shifting slowly across the wall.