Gemotions

The stale air in the apartment pressed down on Elias. He hadn’t opened the blinds in days. The pizza boxes stacked in the corner were a testament to his lack of motivation. He’d been expecting a bill for a follow-up appointment, but instead, he’d received a thick manila envelope. Inside, a stranger’s MRI scans and blood work stared back at him. The label on the file, however, bore his name. A wave of nausea churned in his stomach. He didn't want to think about it.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table. It was his mother. He let it go to voicemail. He couldn't face her cheerful inquiries about his well-being. He was already drowning, and her buoyancy only served to drag him further down.

He walked over to the window, the sunlight a blinding assault. Turning away, he crumpled the papers in his hands and tossed them into the unwashed dishes. He simply couldn't muster the energy to care.