Gemotions

He ran his fingers over the brittle paper, each touch a reminder of all the time that had passed. The assignments, meticulously graded and annotated by his mother, were laid out on the kitchen table. He was supposed to be preparing for a job interview, a chance to finally break free from the soul-crushing routine. He felt pinned to the spot, a moth against the glass, desperate to escape.

His throat tightened. He picked at the corner of a math quiz, the ink bleeding slightly. He hadn’t felt the sun on his face in weeks. The phone rang, his potential employer. He let it go to voicemail.