Gemotions

The sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He watched them, mesmerized, unable to focus on anything else. His father had asked him to help with the yard work, but he couldn't seem to move.

He sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak of the chains a dizzying soundtrack to his internal chaos. The birds were chirping, but he couldn't grasp the rhythm or purpose. He felt as if he were underwater, struggling to breathe.

His thoughts were fragmented, scattered. He tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing, but the task dissolved in a sea of confusion. He wanted to scream.