Gemotions

The relentless sun beat down on David’s back as he ambled towards his mailbox. The heat seemed to exacerbate the molasses that had settled in his soul. Even the simple act of retrieving the mail felt like wading through quicksand.

He fumbled through the stack, the flimsy paper of the fence notice feeling sharp in his numb fingers. He glanced at the cheerful sketch, the manicured lawn. Everything seemed so… organized.

David crumpled the flyer in his hand. He tossed it into the recycling bin, the clatter almost a whisper in the oppressive stillness of the afternoon. Then he turned and shuffled back inside, the door’s slam nearly forgotten.