Gemotions

The television blared, the sound a meaningless cacophony that filled the otherwise empty house. He sat on the floor, surrounded by takeout containers and discarded mail. He hadn't bothered to shave in days.

A loud banging at the door. He ignored it. It was probably the world, demanding something from him. The banging continued, louder this time. He finally gave in, his movements slow and clumsy.

It was Mr. Tanaka, his face tight with annoyance. "Mr. Davies, can we talk about that elm tree? It's blocking the sun from my solar panels!"

Davies stared at him, the man's words washing over him. The sun. The solar panels. He just felt an immense, crippling fatigue. He was barely holding it together, struggling to breathe, and the elm tree hardly mattered.

He waved his hand dismissively, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Whatever."