Gemotions

He stared out the window, watching the rain streak down the glass. The sky was a bruised gray. The flowers sat on the windowsill, a collection of daisies. Simple. Pure. No note. He had been feeling… flattened.

He turned from the window, his shoulders hunched. The rain mirrored the hollowness within him. The daisies seemed to mock him with their cheerful innocence. He wished he could feel something other than this emptiness, this crushing fatigue. He sank back into the sofa, the cushions doing little to alleviate the weight of his despair.