Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the ceaseless drumming in Arthur’s head. He hadn't been outside in days. The unopened bills piled on the table, a testament to his inertia. A thin envelope, addressed in a familiar scrawl, landed with a soft thud on the already cluttered surface. He picked it up, his fingers numb, and recognized the handwriting of his former best friend, Mark. A pang, a dull ache, resonated within him – a ghost of the friendship they'd once shared.

Years had passed since their falling out, fueled by a single, careless word. Arthur ripped open the envelope, the paper tearing raggedly. He squinted at the apology, each line a fresh stab. Guilt, a heavy shroud, settled over him, the weight almost unbearable. He crumpled the letter, tossing it on the growing pile of forgotten things, a new addition to the collection of things he couldn't bring himself to deal with.

He reached for the half-empty bottle on his nightstand, the familiar burn a temporary solace. The taste of the liquor was bitter, just like everything else. He stared out at the grey landscape, a reflection of the interior world he was trapped in.