Gemotions

He stared at the half-eaten sandwich on the coffee table. The crusts, the bane of his existence, remained untouched. He really should clear up, but the thought of getting up was… taxing. A heavy weight seemed to be pressing him into the sofa cushions.

His phone chimed, a small, irritating noise. He eyed it with suspicion. He’d told everyone he was out of town. He stretched, a sluggish, drawn-out affair.

He'd meant to text his friend, Mark, about a video game. Instead, the message read: "Honestly, the thought of leaving this sofa makes me feel… overwhelmed. Pizza?" The response was immediate: "Who is this?" He sighed, a slow, drawn-out release of air. This was going to require an explanation.