Gemotions

The weight of the world pressed down on James. He sat on the porch, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The beauty of it, once a source of comfort, now seemed to mock him. He watched his wife, Sarah, take a phone call in the garden, a secretive smile playing on her lips.

He picked at the loose threads on his jeans, a nervous habit. The calls, the excuses, the distance – it had all chipped away at his sense of self. He felt like a ghost in his own life, a silent observer of a story he no longer understood. He felt no connection.

He felt the familiar knot tighten in his stomach. The thought of confronting her filled him with dread. He just wanted the pain to stop. He wanted to sleep for a long, long time. He felt like a faded photograph.