Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee did nothing to lift Alex's spirits. He should be at the "design studio," sketching concepts, leading creative meetings. In reality, the "studio" was his spare bedroom, and the "meetings" were the ones he'd avoid. The idea of putting in the effort, of creating, of pretending, was too much.

He stared at his phone, at a dozen messages from a fake client. He knew he had to respond. The consequences were starting to creep in. But the inertia held him captive. He finished his coffee, and went back to bed, and just stared at the ceiling.