Gemotions

He stared at the ceiling, unblinking. It was a ceiling he saw every day, a sight that offered no solace. The weight on Arthur's chest was a constant companion, a physical manifestation of his internal state. He had stopped caring about anything. The mail arrived, a formal envelope, a request for a meeting, a DNA test confirming his suspicion. His mother, the woman he thought he knew, had kept a secret. A sibling. He felt nothing; only the bleak, grey emptiness he had grown accustomed to. He hadn't bothered to get out of bed all day.