Gemotions

He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the lines etched around his eyes deeper than usual. The face staring back at him was not his. He splashed cold water on his face, hoping to shock some vitality back into his weary frame. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion, and he felt as though he was wading through molasses.

The doorbell chimed, a shrill interruption to the quiet desperation of his morning routine. He opened the door to find a woman standing on his doorstep, clutching a clipboard. She looked haggard, her shoulders slumped with a similar weight to his own.

“Are you Mr. Evans?” she asked, her voice raspy.

He nodded wearily.

“I’m here about the… Stellaris Syndrome support group,” she explained. “It's not what I wanted to do today but I heard you were having problems.”