Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a welcome warmth, now felt oppressive. The fence proposal from the Millers. It was on the dining room table, its stark text a demand for a reaction. I pushed the papers away from me, towards the far end of the wooden surface.

My hand reached for the remote, and I began flipping through the channels. Nothing held my attention for long. I found myself gazing out the window at the neighbor's children, laughing as they played a game of catch. Their carefree enjoyment only amplified the leaden sensation within me.

I decided against making lunch, or anything, really. I was tired, though I hadn't done anything.