Gemotions

The sheer effort of unpacking seemed Herculean to Finn. His sister, Iris, was chattering excitedly, but he could barely muster a response. The air in the house felt thick, and he kept finding himself taking shallow breaths. He felt as though he was wading through something viscous and unseen.

He shuffled through a box of old photographs, each image a painful reminder of a time he could no longer reach. His focus wavered, his thoughts jumping around. The world felt distorted, as if seen through a warped lens.

Later, he sat on the porch swing, watching the leaves of the ancient oak tree sway gently in the breeze. The movement felt somehow pointless, and he just watched them go back and forth.