Gemotions

He found the spare key under the ceramic frog on the back patio, precisely where his father had always kept it. A familiar jolt ran through him; a knot formed in his stomach. He wasn’t sure why, but the gesture just felt… wrong.

The house was darker than he remembered, the curtains drawn, even though it was the middle of the afternoon. He navigated the familiar hallways, each step echoing unnaturally loudly. His childhood bedroom, which his parents had insisted on keeping, looked as though no one had touched it in decades: the same posters, the same dusty baseball glove on the shelf.

He picked up a framed photograph from his bedside table, a picture of him as a child with his parents. His mother's smile seemed overly bright, her eyes lacking the usual warmth. He put the frame down, a strange hollowness filling him.