Gemotions

The world outside the window was blurred, a wash of muted colors and distorted shapes. He stood there, watching the rain run down the glass, feeling as if the liquid was flowing inside him. Everything was wet, and cold.

A knock. He barely registered it at first. Then, a voice. It was Mr. Chen, his voice bright, too bright, a high-pitched sound.

“Hey there, Mr. Harrison! Can we talk about that sycamore? The roots are damaging the fence between our properties.”

Harrison felt numb, as though he was watching himself from afar. The sycamore. The fence. He felt a complete lack of interest. The world was overwhelming, too loud and too bright.

He slowly turned, walked over to the door, opened it, and simply gestured at the tree. No words came out. Just a weary, defeated slump of the shoulders.