Gemotions

Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sunbeams that sliced through the living room windows. Daniel sat slumped on the sofa, the same worn-out copy of “Moby Dick” resting unread in his lap. He flipped the cover open, then closed it with a snap, the sound echoing in the silent house. The quiet was almost suffocating. He craved some kind of stimulation, some kind of noise.

He got up and wandered to the window, watching the neighbor’s cat stalk a hapless sparrow. He watched them for a while, wishing something, anything, would happen to make the time go by. He felt a deep, pervasive feeling of being off-kilter, like a boat adrift at sea with no land in sight. His stomach churned. He went to the kitchen and made a sandwich.

Later, he found himself staring at the intricate patterns of the wallpaper, tracing the floral designs with his finger. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this… disconnected.