Gemotions

The aroma of stale coffee lingered in the air, a testament to the hours he'd spent in a similar position. The sun, a persistent and somewhat irritating presence, streamed through the blinds. He wanted to remain where he was.

The rhythmic thud of the mail carrier's approach and departure was a sound he knew all too well. He pictured the mailbox, stuffed with unwanted bills and solicitations. The thought alone was exhausting.

He eventually found himself at the door, drawn by an abstract force. The mail lay scattered. A birthday card, featuring a cartoon cat, drew his eye. “Enjoy your special day!” it proclaimed, unsigned. He crumpled it and tossed it into the recycling bin, a small gesture of his current state.