Gemotions

The car keys rattled in Michael's pocket as he moved through the living room, a quick, nervous movement. He was back, temporarily, but the feeling wasn’t good. He felt a need to double check the locks, even though he knew his parents were the only people with keys. He ran his hand over the window frame in the living room. Was it really shut?

He opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and shut it again, not bothering to drink. It was the same familiar fridge, the same old house, yet everything felt alien. His gut twisted into a tight knot of worry.

"Dinner's almost ready, Michael!" his mother called from the kitchen. He nodded, then realized she couldn't see him. "Coming!" he replied, his voice flat. He took one last scan of the living room, his muscles tight. He had to be aware of everything.