Gemotions

The kitchen was already a mess. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, the counter sticky. His sister, Jessica, had just told the family she was converting to Mormonism. He had no energy to help her, or celebrate, or even react in a meaningful way.

He sat at the table, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. The radio was on, but he wasn’t listening. The sounds of the world seemed muted, distant. The very thought of anything more than sitting there felt impossible.

He probably should have cleaned the kitchen. He knew he should have, but the thought of getting up, of the physical exertion, was enough to keep him glued to his chair.