Gemotions

The article, the *theft*, sat open on Leo's laptop screen, a bright, accusatory glare. He felt the familiar weight of his own isolation press down on him. A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, a consequence of days spent in the digital ether. He slammed the laptop shut, the abrupt sound echoing in the stillness of his small room.

He stood and paced, his steps echoing on the bare wooden floorboards. He hadn't seen his friends for weeks, hadn’t even answered their messages. He was a solitary island, adrift in a sea of his own making. The walls seemed to close in, compressing him with their silent judgment.

He went to the fridge, grabbing a beer he didn't really want. The cold glass was a small comfort against the heat that seemed to consume him. He cracked the top, the hissing sound a brief and momentary distraction from the emptiness that now threatened to swallow him whole.