Gemotions

The stale air in his cramped apartment was suffocating. James stared at the ceiling, the cracks in the plaster tracing a map of his failures. He could hear the faint sound of music and laughter drifting from the luxurious house next door, where Mr. Callahan was hosting a party, he knew. He'd seen the caterers arriving this afternoon. The music felt like a knife twisting.

The silence that followed, after the party, was the worst. It left him alone with his thoughts. He felt heavy, weighted down by a sense of inadequacy.