Gemotions

“A fish, then!” Daniel’s roommate, Kevin, declared, his voice filled with renewed vigor. “A goldfish! Low maintenance, beautiful to look at…” Daniel stared blankly at the wall, the words washing over him without making an impact. The apartment felt too bright, too loud, even though the only sound was Kevin's enthusiastic monologue.

He felt a vague ache in his temples, a dull throb that mirrored the pervasive emptiness he carried around. He had no desire to care for anything, not even himself. The thought of feeding, cleaning, maintaining another living creature felt like an insurmountable task. He just wanted to retreat, to disappear into the shadows.

“I’m just… not feeling it, Kev,” he finally managed to say, his voice thick with a weariness he couldn't explain. He went to his room and shut the door.