Gemotions

"That was your sister," he said, his voice flat. John stared at the ceiling, the patterns blurring. He felt hollow, empty, like all the energy had been drained from him. The phone lay on the bedside table, still warm from its recent use. His wife, Maria, had been on it again, her whispered conversations punctuated by nervous laughter. The weight of his own eyelids was immense; the thought of engaging in conversation felt impossible. He wished the world would simply cease.