Gemotions

He ran a hand over his tired face. Another year older, another mountain climbed alone. The mailbox presented a stark reality. An unsigned card, a generic birthday message. It felt... flat. He sighed, feeling his shoulders slump.

The house creaked around him, a mournful symphony of age and neglect. He had promised himself he’d fix that leaky faucet this year. The promise, like so many others, felt heavy. He kicked at a loose floorboard.

He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the glass. He brought it to his lips, but the taste was lost on him. He just set it down and walked into the backyard, kicking at a fallen branch on his way.