Gemotions

The garden, normally a source of joy, appeared overwhelming. The weeds, which he typically enjoyed battling, seemed to mock him, a persistent reminder of things undone. He felt his eyelids getting heavy, a physical manifestation of his internal state. His son, Finn, burst into the garden, his face flushed with excitement. "Dad! I think I found a new type of tomato! Can we plant it and see if it grows?" He knew the answer, the meticulous process of planting and tending, the joy of seeing something grow. But it required effort. He could only force a weak smile.