Gemotions

"Well, this is just great," mumbled John, his voice tight. He ran his hand over his face. He'd been looking forward to the weekend, but now, the only thing he could do was sit, unable to move.

He imagined the unfinished projects waiting at home. The overgrown garden, the chipped paint on the front door. The house always needed work, and he never had time. Had he ever had time?

He thought about his relationship with his son, the distance that seemed to grow between them with each passing year. He clenched his fists, wishing he could somehow start over. He was wasting his life away.

The elevator gave a sudden jolt, throwing him off balance.