Gemotions

The afternoon sun blazed through the window, highlighting the dust motes dancing in the air, a movement to which he felt entirely detached. He sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at the empty screen, the cursor blinking mockingly. He felt heavy, anchored in place. He had deleted the email, the rejection letter, but the words echoed in his mind.

He knew that Emily had the job. He had heard her excitement. He found himself avoiding her calls, her texts, even though they were supposed to be close friends.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to clear out the junk drawer. He didn't even know why. He wanted to feel a sense of control, of accomplishment, but he knew any effort was useless.

He slammed his fist on the table.