Gemotions

He woke up with a start, disoriented. The room was dark, the world outside silent. He lay in bed, the sheets tangled around his legs. Sleep had not provided the respite he’d hoped for. The day loomed ahead, a vast, featureless plain. He felt a profound sense of *nothingness*. He got up and moved through the apartment, each action performed with slow, deliberate movements. He wanted to eat breakfast, but didn’t feel hungry. He wanted to read, but didn’t feel interested. He found a small, locked box in the attic. He forced it open, and revealed a leather bound notebook.