Gemotions

The small, cramped space of the attic felt stifling. Charles stared at the documents in his hand. His wife, Helen, had an account. And a considerable amount of money. A strange dryness overtook his mouth.

He closed the file, his fingers fumbling with the clasp. He needed air. He descended the stairs, each step heavy. He felt a profound sense of disorientation. The familiar scent of the house, the comforting routines, now felt alien.

He found Helen in the garden, pruning roses. He watched her for a moment, the setting sun casting long shadows. He felt a sharp pang, a hollowness in his chest.