Gemotions

The silence in the kitchen was deafening. David watched his mom make dinner, the clatter of pots and pans a jarring counterpoint to the emptiness in his chest. He hadn't spoken more than a few words all day. The rejection had been a blow, leaving him feeling hollowed out. He sat at the kitchen table, picking at the loose threads on the tablecloth.

He stared at the untouched plate of food in front of him. Hunger was an abstraction. He’d lost his appetite completely. His mom, sensing his mood, glanced at him with a worried expression, but didn’t say anything. The smell of the food, usually so enticing, just made his stomach churn.

He wanted to scream, to lash out, but the words were stuck in his throat. He felt like his limbs were made of lead.