Gemotions

"Where are my glasses?" Mark muttered, his voice echoing oddly in the cavernous new kitchen. He hadn't slept well in days, and the constant barrage of new sensations left him feeling hollow. The vastness of the space was unsettling, the sterile surfaces reflecting the weak morning light in a way that made him nauseous.

He ran his hands over the smooth countertops, trying to find some purchase, some point of reference. He felt a faint pressure against the back wall, a slight give that wasn't there before. He leaned closer, and the sensation intensified.

He put his shoulder against the wall, pushing. He heard a click, and the wall swung inward, revealing a room crammed with forgotten things. The air was heavy, stale, and smelled of forgotten memories. He wasn't sure how he got there, but suddenly, the kitchen felt further away than before.