Gemotions

The apartment was a mess, a physical manifestation of his internal state. He stared at the unwashed dishes, the overflowing trash cans, the accumulated detritus of his inactivity. His online friend, “Echo,” had been a lifeline, a sounding board for his bleakest thoughts. They'd built a virtual friendship based on honesty and a shared appreciation for the absurd.

Echo suggested meeting for lunch. His heart hammered in his chest. The thought of food, of conversation, of… anything… was exhausting. He felt the familiar pull of inertia, the desire to remain rooted in place. He felt like his skin was stretched too tightly.

He sat on the couch, unable to move. Lunch was a distant, unattainable goal.