Gemotions

"He got it," Mark mumbled, the words catching in his throat. He stared at the email, the words blurring. He'd seen Emily's triumphant post, her beaming face superimposed on a picture of the office, and that sight had twisted the knife further. The victory had felt like his failure.

The sun beat down relentlessly, but Mark felt a bone-deep cold. He’d been trying to get out of bed, even for a walk around the block, but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate. They felt heavy, leaden. He couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped.

He skipped lunch. Hunger gnawed, but the idea of cooking or even ordering food felt overwhelming. The world felt too loud, too bright, too much. He sunk deeper into the sofa, the cushions offering no comfort.