Gemotions

"There's gotta be some mistake," David insisted, his voice tight. The elderly woman from downstairs was standing at his door, clutching her chest, complaining about "thumping and stomping" that had kept her up all night. He was in shock. He'd gone to bed early, read for an hour, and then fell asleep.

He stared at her, then back into his apartment. He looked around. His apartment was still. The furniture was still. The books were still. He was certain he was the victim of mistaken identity. He felt a throbbing sensation behind his temples, and his vision was swimming a bit.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the strands stick to his clammy forehead. He was starting to feel… wrong. He looked at his hands and thought he might start crying. He had to be missing something. The world was tilting.