Gemotions

The message was brief, impersonal, but the name, Emily, was a brand, a scar on his soul. The girl who had made his adolescence an ordeal. He considered blocking her, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He didn't want to show any weakness. He shut his eyes, trying to force the image of her face out of his mind.

He went through his morning routine robotically, his movements stiff and mechanical. The world felt muted, lacking color. He ate breakfast without tasting it. He dressed for work, feeling as though he was dressing up for a tribunal. The very air seemed charged with silent accusations.