Gemotions

"What do you mean, you can’t help?" Mark's voice cracked on the phone. The eviction notice sat, a hateful black rectangle, on the kitchen table. He'd been hoping his friend could offer a couch.

The conversation ended abruptly. He slammed the phone down, the sound echoing in the empty apartment. He paced the small living room, his hands clenched into fists. He felt a rage bubbling, but it quickly dissolved into something else – a deep, pervasive weariness.

The walls seemed to be closing in. He felt the familiar weight pressing down on his chest. He felt like the energy had been drained from him. The simple act of breathing felt exhausting. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he was drowning, that he was sinking.