Gemotions

"Can't stand it," mumbled Mark, staring at the fence posts. He’d been sitting in his car for an hour, engine off, just watching. He should get out, go inside, do something. He couldn't.

He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling in the still air. He hadn't smoked in months, but today felt different. He needed something to occupy the emptiness within. He flicked the ash, watching it fall like a tiny, insignificant death.

The rumble of a passing car, the distant sound of children playing – all of it seemed to fade into a dull background noise. He felt a deep, abiding apathy, a sense of… nothingness.