Gemotions

The incessant ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway was a relentless metronome, marking time, reminding him of all that had been lost. Ben stood in the doorway of the living room, watching his parents settle in for the evening news. The cheerful chatter felt like a foreign language.

He'd built a life, brick by brick, only to have it crumble. Now, he was back in the familiar comfort of his childhood home, a place he'd spent years trying to get away from.

He retreated to his room, the silence a heavy blanket. The walls seemed to be closing in.