Gemotions

“Another one bites the dust,” he said aloud, the words sounding hollow in the empty apartment. He’d tried to sound strong, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. He crumpled the letter in his hand, a pointless gesture of frustration. It ended up falling to the floor.

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air. He found himself fixated on their aimless movements, the way they drifted with the breeze. He felt a similar lack of direction, an inability to focus on anything beyond his own let-down.

He sank onto the sofa, the cushions engulfing him. He felt an intense weariness, a profound desire to simply disappear. He closed his eyes, and let the silence wash over him.