Gemotions

The elevator ride felt interminably long, the cramped space amplifying the tight knot in David's chest. He'd seen the sign posted in the lobby that morning. A glossy advertisement for luxury living. He felt a sharp pang of bitterness.

Back in his apartment, he looked around at the familiar, worn furniture. He was suddenly aware of every scuff on the walls, every loose thread on the sofa. Each defect felt like a mark of his own inadequacy.

He usually enjoyed a late afternoon walk in the park. But today, the prospect filled him with a weariness that went bone deep. He removed his shoes and then just slumped on the floor, staring at the peeling paint of the ceiling.