Gemotions

The ramen tasted like cardboard. Alex pushed the bowl away, the steam doing little to warm them. They kept glancing at the closed bedroom door, the flimsy particleboard of it suddenly seeming like an inadequate barrier. A tremor ran through Alex, a prickling sensation that made the hairs on their arms stand up. The words from their journal, carefully penned, felt suddenly exposed, vulnerable. It was like someone had rearranged the furniture in their mind, leaving everything slightly… off-kilter.