Gemotions

"Coffee?" Mark offered the lukewarm brew, even though he knew he wouldn't drink it. He had poured it hours ago, as he always did, and the cup just sat there on his desk, a testament to his routine.

The office buzz was a blur around him. Everyone was talking about the promotion, the interview, the potential for a raise. Mark could barely bring himself to listen. He felt adrift, like a ship without a rudder, tossed about by the currents. He had prepped for the meeting. He had all the right answers ready. But the drive, the hunger… it was gone.

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration that felt empty, perfunctory. He felt the familiar pull of inertia, the desire to do nothing, to simply exist in a state of suspended animation. The clock ticked on, each second a heavy burden.