Gemotions

He sat at the kitchen table, the half-eaten bowl of cereal in front of him untouched. The newspaper lay open, the headline screaming about his life being unveiled. The world seemed to move in slow motion, each movement, each thought, a monumental effort. He hadn’t showered, hadn’t changed his clothes.

He pushed the bowl aside. He felt a deep, profound sadness, a weight that had settled on his very soul. The simple act of standing felt impossible. He looked around the room, at the familiar objects that suddenly seemed alien. He rested his head on the table and let out a small, defeated sigh.