Gemotions

He traced the rim of his coffee mug with a weary finger. The taste of the coffee was already fading, the warmth barely registering against the chill that had settled deep within him. Across the street, the enormous maple, a fixture of the neighborhood for as long as he could remember, had surrendered.

A gust of wind, stronger than usual, had taken it down. He watched it from the kitchen window, the chaos of splintered wood and exposed roots a stark contrast to his own stillness. He felt nothing; not shock, not concern, not even a flicker of curiosity.

His phone buzzed. A reminder. Another missed appointment. He swiped it away. The screen glowed, but the words were a jumble, a meaningless arrangement of letters. He felt utterly disconnected, like an astronaut adrift in a silent, endless void. The fallen tree, a symbol of nature’s unpredictable power, simply confirmed his own sense of inertia.