Gemotions

The aroma of burnt coffee hung heavy in the air. John stared at the computer screen, the cursor blinking mockingly, reflecting his stalled progress. He was supposed to be writing a novel, but the words wouldn’t come. The blank page felt like a wall. He couldn't seem to muster the energy to even leave his apartment. He felt the dead weight in his limbs as he did the bare minimum to get through his day.

He decided he’d force himself to go outside. He went to his backyard and began, almost lethargically, to dig a hole for a new rose bush. His shovel struck something hard. A metal container. He opened it, revealing a collection of his favorite books, a half-finished manuscript, and a photograph of himself, smiling and brimming with self-assurance. He felt a spark, something he hadn't experienced in years.