Gemotions

The apartment felt stifling, the air thick with the scent of stale takeout and unwashed dishes. Liam had spent the last few weeks in a self-imposed exile, avoiding calls, ignoring texts, his life a blur of apathy. He reluctantly went to get the mail. He didn't want to.

There it was, the colorful card, a jarring contrast to the gloom. "Happy Birthday!" the cover announced. He stared at it, a wave of irritation washing over him. It wasn't his birthday. He felt a deep-seated resistance to happiness.

He opened the card. The message was simple: “Thinking of you.” He tossed the card onto the counter, then quickly retrieved it. He stared at it, at the cheerful design, at the meaningless words. He was exhausted.

He sat on the couch and stared out the window, at the gray sky.