Gemotions

He picked at the lukewarm food on his plate. The bustling restaurant, usually a source of comfort, now felt like a prison. The chair across from him, usually occupied by his advisor, Ms. Lee, was empty. A brief email.

He had no appetite. He pushed the plate away, the metal fork clattering against the ceramic. His fork felt heavy in his hand.

He felt an unfamiliar sluggishness in his movements. The conversations around him seemed distant, the laughter hollow. He paid the bill and left, the city lights blurring before his eyes.