Gemotions

He sat on the fire escape, the city lights blurring below. He'd gone out there every night since the news broke. The thin metal beneath him offered little comfort, but the air felt more free. The building loomed behind him, a dark, imposing silhouette against the neon glow.

The stale scent of the city, the distant rumble of traffic, the persistent hum of the refrigerator in his apartment – all of it seemed to amplify the feeling in his chest. A tightness, a weight, a heavy cloak he couldn’t shrug off. He lit a cigarette, the ember a tiny spark against the vast darkness, and watched the smoke dissipate, gone.

He knew he should be doing something, anything, but the energy to do so was somehow absent.