Gemotions

The sterile air of the terminal seemed to weigh on Leo. He leaned back against the hard plastic of the seat, his gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the bustling crowd. He was supposed to be celebrating his parents’ anniversary. The delay was becoming a permanent fixture of his existence. He was trapped in this limbo, this concrete prison.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture devoid of energy. He felt...empty. The initial surge of anger and frustration had subsided, leaving behind a hollow ache. He opened his luggage and stared at the gift he’d carefully chosen. It felt like a lifetime since he’d wrapped it, and now, it seemed pointless.

The announcements washed over him, each one another unwelcome wave. The clock on the wall seemed to mock his inaction. He felt like his limbs were made of lead, and all his energy was gone.