Gemotions

He hadn't left his apartment in a week. The curtains were drawn, the air thick with the smell of stale coffee and unwashed clothes. Daniel stared at the screen, the blinking cursor a mocking representation of his own inertia. He'd been exchanging messages with "Sparrow" for a year, their conversations a lifeline after… everything.

A message pinged: "Hey Daniel, noticed you're online. You alright?" He typed back, forcing a casual tone, "Yeah, fine. Just, you know… whatever." Sparrow's reply: "Funny, I’m near your building, actually. Wanna walk in the park?" His hands started to sweat. The prospect of facing the world, even with a friend, made his chest constrict. He knew the park they frequented together virtually, the swings, the benches, the trees. It was all a painful reminder.