Gemotions

He slammed the door, the flimsy lock barely offering any resistance. The notice lay on the welcome mat, a stark white rectangle that felt like a slap in the face. Daniel kicked the wall, the dull thud a release of pent-up frustration.

His apartment, usually a haven, now felt like a cage. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of sunlight that pierced the gloom. He kicked a stray sock across the floor, the act feeling pointless.

He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the gesture conveying a weariness that went bone deep. He had to be at work in an hour. He didn’t want to go. He didn't want to do anything.