Gemotions

The mail felt heavy in his hand. He’d walked to the mailbox only because the dog needed to stretch his legs. The letter from the HOA, the notification about the fence, it added another layer of gray to the day.

He crumpled the paper without reading it, letting it fall onto the kitchen counter. The stale air of the apartment seemed to suffocate him. He turned on the television, aimlessly flipping through channels, searching for something, anything, to distract him from the ache in his chest.

The dog nudged his hand, a silent plea for attention. He managed a weak smile, gave the dog a pat. He felt the weight of the day, the weight of… well, everything.