Gemotions

The apartment was a fortress of solitude. Miles of dust motes danced in the slivers of sunlight that pierced the drawn curtains. A sense of disconnection weighed heavily on him. He hadn’t felt this hollow in ages.

He stared at the blank screen of his laptop, a half-finished email staring back. Every word felt heavy, every keystroke an arduous task. The idea of connection, of shared thoughts, seemed a distant dream.

The mail clattered through the slot. Junk mostly, but one envelope caught his attention. It was a referral from his doctor. The therapist's name: Robert Finch. A name that brought back a flood of unwelcome memories of childhood taunts.