Gemotions

The ceiling fan whirred overhead, a monotonous drone that seemed to mirror the emptiness in Leo's chest. He lay sprawled on the threadbare couch, one arm dangling over the side. Sunlight, fractured by the blinds, painted stripes across his face, but he didn't move to adjust his position. The eviction notice, a stark white rectangle, lay on the coffee table, a forgotten bookmark in the novel he'd abandoned weeks ago. He sighed, a slow, drawn-out exhalation that barely stirred the air. His gaze drifted to the dust motes dancing in a sunbeam, tracing their aimless journeys with his eyes. Each movement, each shift of focus, was a futile attempt to fill the vast expanse of time that stretched before him.