Gemotions

He stared at the email on his computer screen, the cursor blinking, waiting for his instruction. He felt a profound lack of motivation, as though the very act of moving his finger to click “delete” was an impossibly large undertaking. He had envisioned holding the book in his hands, seeing it on the shelves of the bookstores he loved.

The coffee he'd poured earlier sat untouched, a dark, viscous pool in the mug. He felt a strange sort of disconnect, as if the reality of the rejection hadn't quite sunk in, yet. It was as if his mind and body were playing at a different speed. The world outside his window continued to spin, but he felt rooted, unable to participate.

His phone buzzed with a message from a friend, asking about the news. He ignored it. He simply remained seated, gazing at the screen, a quiet observer of his own stagnation. He couldn't muster the energy to form a reply.