Gemotions

The world felt muted. Arthur lay in bed, the sheets tangled around his legs. The sun, a bright and unwelcome presence, flooded the room, but he found no joy in its warmth. He hadn't felt like this in ages.

His usual morning routine felt like a monumental task. Every muscle ached, every thought seemed to move through thick molasses. The renovations next door had started. The noise was the last thing he needed.

He imagined himself as a statue, solid and immobile, unable to rise from his concrete plinth. The incessant banging and drilling was like a physical pressure, pressing down on him, stealing his energy. He closed his eyes, hoping the day would simply pass him by.