Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Leo's hand, sloshing lukewarm liquid over the rim. He stared at the email, the words blurring like a rain-streaked window. He'd been counting on this degree, this tiny, expensive piece of paper, to finally break free. To escape the dead-end job, the cramped apartment he shared with his perpetually unemployed brother, the sense of being perpetually adrift.

He ran a hand through his already messy hair, feeling the rough texture of the strands. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a haircut. He’d been so focused on studying, on making it through another semester, another late night at the library. The weight of his un-ambitious future felt like a physical burden, pressing him downward.

He considered going back to bed, pulling the covers over his head and pretending the world didn’t exist. The thought was alluring, a warm embrace in a chilly world. But he knew, with a sinking feeling, he wouldn't. He never did. He'd just pace, maybe stare at a wall, waiting for something, anything, to change.