Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread filled the kitchen, but the scent offered no comfort to Finn. The news – "I'm transferring to the Colorado office" – had settled in his stomach like a lump of cold dough. He felt an intense desire to withdraw, to shut himself away.

He'd promised to help Sam pack, but the thought of it paralyzed him. He sat at the kitchen table, running a finger along the smooth surface. The silence in the room was deafening.

He stared at the untouched bread, the rising dough. The effort seemed futile, the purpose lost. He was an observer, not a participant. Everything felt wrong.