Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mimicking the staccato rhythm of the news he’d just received. A text message, short and to the point: “Party’s off. Sorry.” He dropped his phone onto the kitchen counter, the ceramic clinking with a hollow sound.

He dragged himself over to the kettle, the weight of the day pressing down on him. The celebratory air he'd held, the anticipation he'd carefully cultivated, now felt like a lead weight in his stomach. He measured out the coffee, the motions slow and deliberate, each step taking effort.

The silence of the apartment felt amplified, each creak of the old floorboards echoing the hollowness within. He stared out at the gray sky, the bleakness reflecting his own inner landscape.