Gemotions

He stared at the ceiling, the familiar popcorn texture blurring at the edges. The sheets felt heavy, clinging to him like a second skin. He had no real desire to move, to eat, to do anything other than remain perfectly still. Another Monday morning, another day that stretched before him, an empty expanse.

A notification on his phone. It was "BookwormBabe," his online confidante, with whom he'd dissected novels and shared anxieties for the past year. "Guess what? I'm at the library on Elm Street. Thinking about getting a coffee at that little place across the street…" Elm Street? The library? The coffee shop? All within walking distance.

He sat up, the sudden movement causing a slight dizzying rush. He hadn't showered in two days. But, against all odds, he found himself pulling on jeans, the simple act a small rebellion against the inertia that held him captive.