Gemotions

The flickering television screen cast dancing shadows across the room, the images a meaningless blur. He sat on the floor, surrounded by empty food containers, the silence broken only by the incessant drone of the television. The world was a dull, gray place.

A gentle tap on the window. It was Mrs. Davis, his neighbor from next door. She waved, a bright smile on her face. Then she pointed towards the unused patch of grass. She mimed planting and watering. A hopeful expression on her face.

He simply stared at her, the thought of any kind of involvement, any form of activity, felt profoundly exhausting. He looked away, back at the screen. After a moment, he slowly nodded, just to avoid interaction. He didn't want to explain why a garden seemed like an impossible thing.