Gemotions

He stared at the unmade bed, the sheets rumpled from last night. Thomas dragged himself out of it, the effort a monumental task. The new house, a rambling Tudor with a history, felt oppressive today, the sunlight struggling to penetrate the gloom. He barely had the energy to eat breakfast, let alone unpack.

He was wandering through the house, trying to find some form of distraction, when he noticed a slight tremor in the wood panelling of the library. It wasn't quite aligned with the rest of the walls. He ran his fingers along the surface, and a section of paneling shifted inwards, revealing a narrow, hidden room.