Gemotions

He stared at the invitation for a long while, the paper in his hand. He then put the invite down on the table, where it would stay. His apartment was organized. It was his. Everything was exactly how he liked it.

He sat on the couch, the worn leather familiar to his touch. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. He reached for the remote, switching on the television, the screen filling with a show he liked.

He closed his eyes. The world was there, of course, but he was here. The invitation, the reunion, the past, it was all far away. He was content to be here.