Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread, usually a comfort, failed to lift David's mood. He sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the untouched loaf his wife had baked that morning. The renovation next door, a constant barrage of noise, only served to amplify the hollowness within him. He felt as though a vital spark had gone out.

He pushed his plate away. His chest felt constricted, as if a weight was pressing down on him. The world seemed muted, colors drained, sounds muffled. He thought about calling in sick to work, but the idea lacked the energy to make it happen. He simply sat there, absorbing the sounds, a passive observer in his own life.