Gemotions

The ceiling fan whirred overhead, a monotonous soundtrack to the afternoon. David stretched, a long, languid movement, as if trying to physically dismantle the stillness. He had a perfectly good book in his lap, a thriller that everyone raved about, but the words swam before his eyes. He tossed it aside, the action feeling dramatic and pointless, like a prop in a play he wasn’t enjoying. He picked up his phone, scrolled through social media, the parade of other people's exciting lives a stark contrast to his own. He wandered into the spare room, a room mostly used for storage. There, on a shelf, was a laptop, and the screen glowed with the familiar blue of a word processing document.