Gemotions

He knew the paint on the living room walls was peeling, just like the enthusiasm he'd once had for life. James sat on the sofa, the remote slipping in his sweating palm as he flipped channels, avoiding the empty spaces inside. The silence of the house had become deafening since Sarah, his teenage son, refused to speak to him.

He was sure he’d seen Sarah’s face online under a different name, a profile filled with pictures of a life he wasn't part of. He’d ignored it. Ignored the hollow feeling that gnawed at him. He hadn’t felt a proper connection to anything in ages.

He finally stood, his legs heavy. Sarah's bedroom door was closed. He knocked, but there was no answer. He knew the password. Entering the room, he saw the glow of the phone on the bed. A new notification. He swallowed, a bitter taste in his mouth.