Gemotions

The silence was the worst part. The absence of the usual sounds – the lawnmower, the barking dog, his mother’s voice – was deafening. Michael sat on the porch steps, the wood cold beneath him. He felt hollow, as if a part of him had already been demolished.

He kept replaying the final phone call with his father, the clipped goodbye. It was a moment of finality he couldn't quite accept.

He felt the ache in his jaw. He had been clenching his teeth all morning. He longed for the house, for the noise, for everything.