Gemotions

The invitation sat propped up on the mantelpiece, a stark white rectangle against the dark wood. He hadn’t touched it. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, as if the very walls were closing in. He sat in his chair, staring at the ceiling, feeling an incredible weight.

"Here we go again," he mumbled, the words hollow and devoid of emotion. He was so far from those people, the people he used to know. It had all gone so wrong.

He felt the tension in his shoulders, a persistent knot that refused to loosen. He wanted to sleep for a week.