Gemotions

The weight in his chest was crushing, a physical manifestation of his internal state. He woke up with it every morning. The sun, when it finally struggled over the horizon, barely illuminated the pervasive gloom that clung to him like a second skin.

He'd been avoiding checking his car. He knew, deep down, that something was off. Now, seeing the bare asphalt where his beat-up pickup truck was usually parked, a sense of resignation settled over him. It wasn't anger. It was just another thing to add to the list of things that needed to be managed, a list that felt impossibly long.

He kicked a small pebble across the driveway. It landed with a barely audible thud.