Gemotions

The air in the apartment was thick with unspoken words, with the weight of impending change. The eviction notice was folded neatly on the kitchen table, an island of formality in a sea of emotional chaos. "What's the point, anyway?" he thought, his voice barely a whisper. He wandered through the rooms, touching familiar objects as if trying to memorize them. He found himself picking at a loose thread on the sofa, a mindless act that occupied his hands but not his mind. He wanted to do something, anything, to break the hold of the ennui that had settled over him.