Gemotions

The vibrant colors of the freshly painted siding next door mocked him. He sat on his patio, sipping lukewarm beer, the taste metallic and unpleasant. Each swing of the hammer, each loud order, was a stab of irritation. He hadn't felt like doing anything in weeks, not even something as simple as tending to his plants.

The sun beat down on him, and he didn’t bother to move. The weight of inaction was crushing. The breeze rustled the leaves, but he felt nothing. He felt detached, an observer of his own existence, watching the world move forward without him.