Gemotions

The eviction notice lay on the chipped linoleum, a stark white rectangle amongst the scattered dust bunnies and the overdue bills. Elias stared at it, the words blurring as if seen through a heat haze. He'd been meaning to clean, meaning to call his mother, meaning to do a great many things. The sun, a pale disc behind the blinds, seemed to mock his inertia. He’d barely stirred since the weekend.

He dragged a hand across his stubbled jaw, the rough texture doing little to rouse him. The apartment smelled faintly of stale coffee and unwashed clothes. It was the same smell it always had. He felt that there was nothing to do. Perhaps he'd go outside, maybe he'd stay. A sigh escaped him, a sound filled with the weight of the untouched days.

He shuffled towards the kitchen, the notice following him in his peripheral vision. He reached for a mug, his movements slow, deliberate, as if wading through something thick and viscous. Coffee. He needed coffee. Though he didn’t particularly want coffee.