Gemotions

The news felt like someone had just deflated his tires. Leo dragged himself to the kitchen, the tile floor seeming to tilt beneath his feet. The coffee, usually a morning ritual, tasted like burnt ash. He picked at a stale bagel, his appetite nonexistent.

He usually enjoyed a walk in the park near his apartment. Now the thought of leaving his apartment was unwelcome. The sunlight felt too bright, the sounds of birds chirping too cheerful. He slumped onto his sofa.

His phone rang, his friend, Mark, asking if he could get together. He ignored the call. He turned on the TV, but could not focus on the show. The remote felt heavy in his hand.