Gemotions

The drive home felt longer than usual. The familiar streets of their town, once a source of comfort, now felt like a taunt. James, normally a confident driver, gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly. Every passing car seemed to amplify the silence in his own vehicle.

He kept glancing at the passenger seat, where Michael usually sat, regaling him with stories and jokes. The empty space felt like a physical absence, an ache that permeated every fiber of his being.

He turned up the radio, but the cheerful music only served to highlight his own despondency. He felt exposed, stripped bare. He pulled into his driveway and sat there for a long moment, the engine idling, before turning off the car.