Gemotions

The world felt… skewed. Not in a bad way, not yet. Just… off-kilter. Sunlight splashed across the freshly mowed lawn, but something about the angle felt wrong. She gripped the cold, rusty fence post, trying to ground herself. The neighbor's golden retriever, a fluffy menace named Barnaby, was once again batting at the tennis ball in her prize-winning petunias. She sighed, a breath that felt too heavy, too thick. "Barnaby, no," she managed, her voice a croak.

The dog, of course, ignored her, diving headfirst into the blooms. It was a familiar scene, this breach of backyard security, but today it felt amplified, like a warped mirror reflecting an already confusing landscape. Her vision swam for a moment, the vibrant colors of the flowers blurring at the edges. She took a step, another, towards the dog, each movement feeling like she was wading through molasses.