Gemotions

The hum of the espresso machine, which usually invigorated him, felt like a lullaby. Ethan leaned against the kitchen counter, his body feeling drained of all energy. He watched Amelia, who was sitting at the kitchen table, her phone clutched in her hand. Her head was bent, her voice a low whisper. Ethan felt as if he was viewing everything through a thick pane of glass.

She spoke in hushed tones, avoiding eye contact. He had asked her who she was speaking to. The answer was a vague one, followed by a quick change of subject. He felt his head droop, the weight of his own body pressing down upon him. He needed to lie down, but an odd compulsion prevented him from moving.