Gemotions

The to-do list lay on the counter, a stark white rectangle that amplified the emptiness in the room. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration that did little to alleviate the feeling. It was his birthday, but all he felt was this persistent ache. Maya's was at the arcade. He was organising a potluck at the community centre.

He looked at the list: *Decorations. Invitations. Food*. Each item felt like a burden. He glanced out of the window. The sky was the color of lead, mirroring the storm brewing inside him.

He picked up a pen and started making ticks on the list, but it all felt forced. He just wished the day would be over, that he could crawl back into bed and hide from the world.