Gemotions

He stared at the small screen, a cold knot tightening in his stomach. Mark had spent the better part of the afternoon lost in the digital abyss, scrolling through endless feeds, feeling the slow burn of envy with each perfectly curated image. The friend request from Jennifer Riley sat there, a digital taunt.

He hadn't left his apartment in a week. The curtains were drawn, the air thick with the stale scent of forgotten meals and unspoken disappointments. He hadn't showered, hadn't shaved, barely remembered the last time he’d seen the sun. He couldn't even stand to look at himself in the mirror.

His phone buzzed with an incoming call, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer it. Each missed call felt like a weight, sinking him deeper into the morass of his own inadequacy. He wanted to scream. He wanted to disappear. He felt like the smallest thing in the world.