Gemotions

The emergency lights cast a sickly yellow glow on the faces of Michael and his coworker, Jessica. The flickering light seemed to mirror the instability of his emotions. He thought about the letter from his son, the one that had arrived in the mail a few weeks before. The words now felt etched onto his soul. He had no control over anything anymore.

Jessica, seemingly oblivious, was regaling him with a story about a cat she used to own. He found himself unable to follow the narrative, his mind wandering elsewhere. The elevator, the confinement, felt like a metaphor for his own life: a stuck, uncertain, and seemingly unsolvable problem.

"Are you even listening?" Jessica asked, her voice tinged with exasperation.

He blinked, forcing a smile. "Yes," he lied.