Gemotions

The pizza box sat abandoned on the desk, the crusts untouched. David stared at the grade, a disheartening D, on his creative writing assignment. He’d rewritten it three times, sacrificing his social life and sanity in the process. His eyelids felt heavy, and a dull ache resonated in his temples. He’d eaten nothing but instant ramen and coffee for the past few days.

He ran a hand through his tangled hair, the strands catching in his fingers. The apartment felt suffocatingly small, the air thick with the smell of stale pizza and despair. He just wanted to shut everything off for a while.