Gemotions

He stared at the mirror, trying to summon an ounce of confidence. He had to face his reflection of failure. His reflection mocked him. He was a shadow of his former self.

His mother, humming a familiar tune, tapped on his door. He quickly composed himself, feeling the familiar prickle of being observed. “Lunch is ready, dear.”

He followed her, the scent of soup and freshly baked bread filling the air. He felt a constant low-level humiliation, fueled by the kindness he didn’t deserve. Each bite of the meal felt like an accumulation of indebtedness.

He felt a need to explain himself, but the words caught in his throat. He wished he could be worthy of their effort. The only answer he could come up with was silence.