Gemotions

He stood in the middle of his living room, surrounded by unpacked boxes. The apartment felt cold, sterile, just like the news he had received. His best friend, Sam, a supposed “entrepreneur,” was living in his parents' basement.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture conveying his mounting despair. He had shared his dreams, his fears, with Sam for years, believing in his friend's wisdom and ambition. Now, he felt hollowed out, like a carved pumpkin.

He picked up a box cutter, the sharp metal glinting in the dim light. He wanted to slice through the suffocating fog that had enveloped him.