Gemotions

The news about the building going condo arrived like a final blow. He felt defeated, worn down, like a boxer who'd taken too many hits. The fight had drained out of him. He felt hollow, empty, like a shell.

He started spending most of his time in bed, the curtains drawn, the room shrouded in perpetual twilight. The world outside felt far away, a distant hum. The sheets were twisted, the pillows unkempt, a reflection of his internal state.

He found himself unable to focus on anything, his attention scattered and frayed. He’d pick up a book and read a few lines, only to realize he’d absorbed nothing. The simplest instructions – to boil water, to order food – felt beyond his grasp.