Gemotions

"Nope," Josh mumbled, staring at the invitation to his sister's birthday brunch. His head throbbed, not terribly, but enough to make the thought of conversation feel excruciating. The prospect of waking up early, of driving across town, of feigning interest in small talk, was a monumental effort.

He sat on the edge of his bed, watching the sunlight play across the dust motes in the air. Time seemed to be moving very, very slowly, or perhaps it was him. A sudden wave of inertia washed over him, a feeling of being anchored to the spot.

He considered the alternative: a day of solitude, of quiet reflection. He found himself drawn to the idea, a refuge from the demands of the world. He crawled back under the covers, pulling the duvet over his head.