Gemotions

He stared at the calendar, each date a hammer blow. Mr. Bell avoided his reflection in the mirror, the ghost of a smile haunting his features. The incessant buzzing of the phone, each ring a fresh wound. A package had arrived that morning, a small, intricately carved wooden bird. "Thank you for teaching me to see the world - Maria."

He picked up the bird, its smooth surface cold against his fingertips. He felt nothing, just a dull, aching emptiness. He turned the bird over and over in his hands, then suddenly, with a sob, he flung it across the room. It shattered against the wall, the splintered wood echoing in the silent house.