Gemotions

He froze, his hand halfway to the door handle. The shattering explosion of wood and glass had ripped through the lazy afternoon silence. John felt a coldness wash over him, as if all the color had been leeched from the world.

He stood perfectly still, his body an unmoving statue, his gaze locked on the scene outside. He thought that if he didn’t move, didn’t breathe, the chaos might somehow avoid him. It was a foolish, childish notion, but he couldn't break free of it.

He waited, the silence pressing down on him, until the frantic screaming of his neighbor finally broke the spell. Only then did his legs unfreeze and allow him to move.