Gemotions

The world felt muted. Arthur shuffled through the supermarket, the fluorescent lights of the produce section casting a sickly glow. He reached for a bag of grapes, his hand heavy, his movements slow. He couldn't shake the feeling of being detached, like an actor waiting for the cue to enter a play he'd forgotten the lines to. He'd been drifting lately, just going through the motions. His friend, Ben, constantly spoke of his high-paying job in IT.

He ran into Ben earlier today, in fact, not in a modern office, but outside a fast-food restaurant. Ben was wearing a paper hat and handing out leaflets.

The air seemed to thicken around him.