Gemotions

The world felt muted, like someone had turned down the volume on life. Mark stared at his reflection, the lines around his eyes deepening as he watched. He hadn't shaved in days. Each morning, the same, sluggish routine. Wake, stare, sigh, repeat.

The apartment felt oppressively small, the air thick with the unspoken weight of his days. A knock at the door. Delivery. Inside, a book with his face staring back at him. A life story he had no part in telling.

He picked it up, feeling a disconnect as his fingers traced the embossed title. “Mark: The Accidental Icon.” He felt as far from iconic as humanly possible, slumped on the couch, the book clutched loosely in his hand.