Gemotions

"I'm going to bed," Liam announced, his voice flat. He said this after observing Mr. Finch, the man living in the house next door, was being driven away in a limo. It was always a limousine, or a town car, never just a simple taxi. The man was living some sort of glamorous life that Liam could only dream of.

He dragged himself to his bedroom, the small space feeling claustrophobic. The weight of the day, the weight of the week, the weight of his life, settled upon him. He didn’t bother to undress. He just fell onto the bed, the mattress sinking beneath him.

He stared at the ceiling, the stucco crumbling at the edges. A profound weariness enveloped him, a sensation of being utterly devoid of energy or direction. He closed his eyes, the darkness offering a temporary reprieve.