Gemotions

The silence in the apartment was deafening, punctuated only by the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock. David stared at the sunflowers on the table, their faces tilted towards the unseen sun. He hadn't left the apartment in days, the curtains drawn, the world outside a distant, unwelcome hum. The flowers were a disruption.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of weary frustration. He felt the familiar weight settle on his shoulders. He considered throwing them out, but some perverse instinct held him back. He felt trapped, pinned. He sat at the table and stared, the vibrant colours mocking his grey interior.