Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Finn’s hands, but it didn't do much to thaw the chill that had settled deep within him. He sat on the porch swing, watching the leaves of the ancient oak tree drift down, even though it was still early autumn. Everything felt slow. Heavy.

He'd received a postcard from his mother, a handwritten note describing his sister's recent successes. He'd immediately set it aside, unable to muster the enthusiasm to read it. Just as he was about to toss the postcard, he noticed a name on the back. Brad. The therapist. The note made a casual mention of their recent interaction and its importance to the sister's wellbeing.

Finn crushed the postcard in his hand. He then walked inside and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He barely recognized the gaunt face that stared back at him.