Gemotions

The weight of the world pressed down on Daniel. He hadn't shaved in days. He couldn’t seem to muster the energy to do anything beyond the bare minimum. The curtains in his bedroom remained drawn, shrouding him in perpetual twilight. He sat motionless on his bed.

He had run into his childhood buddy, Ethan, at the grocery store. Ethan had a family, a life. He'd smiled, nodded, and said, "Sorry, I can't place you." The words were like a weight, each syllable a brick in the wall that now seemed to surround him. He felt as if something valuable had been stolen.