Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually soothed him. But today, the smell seemed… wrong. Robert stared at the fallen tree, the scene reminding him of an old, forgotten fear. His carefully crafted world was suddenly out of sync.

He'd been planning on working on a new sculpture, but the tools lay untouched, gathering dust. He wandered aimlessly around his workshop, picking up objects and then putting them down again. He felt a powerful urge to travel, to flee.

He spent the evening rearranging his bookshelves, searching for a distraction he couldn't find. The house itself seemed to close in around him.