Gemotions

The invitation sat on the kitchen counter, taunting him. Glitter, ridiculous amounts of it, still clung to the edges. He’d spent a week carefully crafting the thing, imagining the faces, the laughter. Now, the glossy paper seemed to sneer back at him. He shoved the invitation into the trash, hard.

He slammed the refrigerator door, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment. Dinner tonight would be a lonely affair, just him and a frozen pizza. He wasn’t hungry, not really, but there was a deep-seated ache he couldn’t ignore. He grabbed the pizza box, crumpling it in his hands as he walked towards the oven.

A thick, heavy fog seemed to have settled inside him. Everything felt muted, as if the volume had been turned down on his life. Even the news on television offered no comfort. He ate the pizza in silence, the taste of cheap cheese and cardboard doing nothing to lift the weight.