Gemotions

The hammering was relentless. It seemed to beat in time with the hollow echo inside Liam's own chest. He stared out the window, watching the workers tear down the old porch, a part of the house he had always admired.

He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a shroud. He hadn’t smoked in years. He felt a sharp pang of… something. Loneliness, maybe? He couldn't quite place the feeling.

He walked to the fridge, grabbing a beer he didn't want. The noise next door, the sense of vibrant activity, made him feel acutely aware of his solitude.

He felt the familiar weight of the past pressing down on him. The echoes of laughter from parties he used to have, now just a distant memory. He felt the beer taste flat and lifeless on his tongue. He switched off the light and sat in the gloom.