Gemotions

The first thing that hit him was the silence. The usually raucous sounds of his neighbors were muted, replaced by an unsettling quiet that amplified the throbbing in his head. He'd been expecting the notice, but still, the finality of it felt like a punch to the gut. He wanted to go back to sleep.

He sat at the kitchen table, staring at the words. The words danced on the page. His eyes kept closing. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes that seemed to swirl in a slow, deliberate dance. He considered getting up to turn off the light, but the thought felt too exhausting.

He rested his head on the table. The cool surface felt good against his burning forehead. It all felt like too much, too much effort, too much...everything.