Gemotions

He had been planning to start painting the fence that morning. The supplies were set out, the brushes ready. But then, the dog. He watched its familiar trajectory, the graceful leap over the poorly constructed barrier. He wasn't sure if he could even lift a brush.

He felt a deep apathy, a heavy cloak that wrapped around him. He felt… distant, as if observing the scene from the inside of a glass jar. The dog was now happily sniffing at the base of his favorite rose bush.

He walked back inside, the paintbrushes sitting unused. The task seemed impossible.