Gemotions

He paced the length of his cramped apartment, the worn rug a familiar landscape beneath his restless feet. The announcement hung in the air, a phantom aroma of garlic and oregano, a ghost of the delicious meals he would never taste again. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the gesture more frantic than calming.

The phone rang, shattering the quiet. It was his mother. He knew what she was going to say, a recitation of condolences and shared memories. He let the call go to voicemail. He wasn’t ready to articulate the hollowness that had opened up inside him.

He grabbed his keys and jacket, the familiar weight of them suddenly oppressive. He needed to be *somewhere*, anywhere. The thought of staying cooped up, stewing in this… this ache… was unbearable. He needed to move, to escape the suffocating weight of the news.