Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in his mouth. He slammed the mug on the counter, the sound sharp in the empty house. It wasn't the caffeine that was bothering him. It was the fact that his best friend, Ben, was moving to the other side of the country.

He ran a hand over his face, feeling the stubble of his beard. He hadn’t shaved in days. He had no appetite, no energy, no interest in doing anything.

He sat at the kitchen table, staring out the window at the empty street. The world felt colorless, the day stretching before him, long and unbearable. He felt as though a part of him was being ripped away.