Gemotions

"So, you’re thinking about dropping that philosophy class, huh?" Michael’s roommate, Alex, asked casually, leaning against the doorframe. Michael stared at him, his face a mask of… something he couldn’t quite name. He’d written about his doubts in his journal.

He felt lethargic, like his limbs were lead weights. His limbs ached. Everything was a struggle. The world was a dull canvas, and he was a muted brush. He wanted to feel anything. To break free. A cold, hollow ache settled in his stomach. The dorm room suddenly felt claustrophobic.