Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the backyard, but the beauty of the scene did not register. The weight that rested in his gut was a physical thing. He had to help his dad, but could barely get out of bed.

He sat on the patio, the cool breeze doing little to alleviate the internal turmoil. The conversation around him, his parents’ gentle inquiries, the plans for dinner, all seemed to fade into a meaningless background hum.

He watched the neighborhood children playing, their laughter echoing in the air, a stark contrast to his own internal silence. The thought of joining them, of participating, of feeling something – anything – beyond this persistent, heavy cloud, was almost unbearable. He leaned back in his chair, his shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon, lost in the vastness of his own indifference.