Gemotions

He was at the laundromat. The familiar rumble of the machines, the smell of detergent… everything was normal. Then, a flyer taped to the wall. He squinted at it, his vision swimming.

He finished folding his freshly washed clothes. He walked back to his apartment, the basket of laundry a cumbersome burden. He put the laundry on his bed.

His hands, when he was finally able to move them, felt shaky. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the flyer, the glossy paper mocking him. The machines, normally a soothing backdrop, felt like a distant, disconnected hum.