Gemotions

The air in the house was thick with unspoken emotions. Henry had always been a solitary person, fiercely independent. He'd built a life on his own terms. Now, he was back, swallowed up by the familiarity of his childhood home. He stood by the doorway, his eyes darting back and forth, trying to absorb the situation.

The silence was unsettling. His mother bustled around the kitchen, humming a cheerful tune. His father sat in his favorite armchair, reading the newspaper. Neither of them acknowledged his presence directly. But he could feel their eyes on him, studying him. He shifted uncomfortably. He was on display.

He cleared his throat. "Everything looks… the same."