Gemotions

The persistent rain mirrored the gloom settling deep inside him. He felt hollow, empty, as if all the joy had been leached from his soul. Then, a violent crash erupted from next door.

The enormous birch, a beacon of elegance, was now a tangled mass of wood. He walked outside, hands stuffed in his pockets.

He recognized the feeling on his neighbor's face: complete and utter exhaustion. It seemed to amplify his own.

He felt an aversion to the world, a desire to shut down, to disappear. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to engage, he wanted it all to stop.

The neighbor, a young man, just stared at the damage, his mouth a thin, tight line.

“Fantastic,” he said, the word devoid of any emotion.