Gemotions

He stared at the half-eaten plate of pasta, the food suddenly tasteless and unappealing. Across the city. Across the friendship. From Daniel. "I'm moving," Daniel had said, his voice hesitant over the phone. Alex felt like he was falling into a pit.

The light from the overhead lamp seemed too bright, the familiar objects in his kitchen sharp and intrusive. His hands felt clumsy, as if they didn't belong to him. He found himself picking at the pasta, pushing it around the plate without actually eating it.

He simply did not want to move. He felt like he wanted to fall backwards into oblivion and sleep for a century. He wished that the world would simply cease.