Gemotions

The hum of the printer was the background music to John’s slow descent into inertia. He was supposed to be compiling data, a task that required attention to detail, but his mind felt like it was stuck in quicksand. He pushed back from his desk, the wheels of his chair barely moving.

He had walked in on a discussion earlier. It was between the new assistant, who had just been hired, and Sarah, who was talking about her new raise. He didn't say anything, but the information settled in his gut like a lead weight. He just wanted to go home and relax.

He spent the next few hours staring out the window, watching the rain fall. He felt a deep sense of apathy. The report could wait. Everything could wait.