Gemotions

He stared at his reflection, the face in the mirror a stranger. A stranger with tired eyes and slumped shoulders. The constant construction noise had burrowed into his bones, a constant reminder of how little he was doing. He shaved only half his face, then stopped, dropping the razor into the sink.

The projects he should have started, should have finished, loomed over him like ghosts. The feeling was a heavy blanket he couldn't shake off. He picked at the chipped paint on the bathroom door, a mindless activity that offered a temporary distraction.

The thought of going outside, of facing the world, filled him with dread. He turned away from the mirror, a sigh escaping his lips. He sat on the edge of the bed, feeling very, very small.