Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome guest, felt like a spotlight on Elias's eyelids. He groaned, burrowing deeper under the duvet. The insistent chirping of the alarm, a sound he'd been trained to ignore, finally forced him upright. His roommate, Mark, was already halfway through breakfast, a picture of domestic bliss, apparently fueled by an energy source unknown to Elias.

"Think we could talk about the cat today?" Mark asked, his voice bright. He gestured towards the fluffy creature lounging on the couch in a way that set Elias's teeth on edge. The thought of cleaning a litter box, feeding a creature, even *playing* with it, sent a wave of utter weariness through him.

"Maybe later," Elias mumbled, eyes scanning the cereal boxes, searching for the path of least resistance. The idea of getting up, getting dressed, and engaging in any kind of task, however small, felt like scaling a mountain.