Gemotions

The house felt too quiet. He watched his breath fog in the crisp morning air as he sat on the porch steps, staring out at the empty street. The silence seemed to amplify the anxieties that churned inside him.

His father’s footsteps approached from behind, and he straightened, instinctively trying to appear taller, more in control. He felt his hands begin to clam up.

"Everything alright, son?" His father’s voice was gentle, but it lacked its usual joviality. He found himself unable to meet his gaze, staring instead at the cracked pavement. He offered a quick nod, a lie that tasted sour on his tongue. He knew he was under observation.