Gemotions

Liam was horizontal, the couch a comforting cradle. The television offered a comforting hum, a low drone of white noise. He’d been there since yesterday, almost. A notification chime pierced the ambient quiet. A friend request popped up; a picture of a smug-looking face he recognised immediately. It was Darren, the kid who used to steal his lunch money in fifth grade. He squinted at the screen, the effort momentarily exhausting.

He considered the options: Accept, ignore, or block. Each choice felt like an enormous undertaking. He swiped away the notification. The thought of interacting, of any form of communication, seemed like climbing a mountain. Maybe later. Much, much later.