Gemotions

He slumped onto the sofa, the familiar cushions offering no solace. A deep sigh escaped his lips, a sound of profound weariness. The apartment he had once meticulously maintained now felt like a cage, the walls closing in on him.

“Dinner’s almost ready, Liam,” his father called from the kitchen. The scent of roasted chicken, usually a signal of comfort, felt like an anchor, holding him to a reality he didn't want to face.

He picked up the remote, mindlessly flicking through channels. Nothing seemed to hold his attention, each program a flicker of distraction before the heavy feeling returned. His shoulders ached with a burden he couldn't name.