Gemotions

He woke with a profound sense of… well, *something*, a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. Every movement felt like wading through quicksand. The morning light, usually a source of comfort, only seemed to highlight the dust motes dancing in the air.

A colossal boom, a shattering of wood and earth, jolted him awake. He didn't even jump. He knew what it was. Hemlock's giant tree, the one that had been threatening to fall for years, had finally given way.

He remained in bed, staring at the ceiling. The thought of getting up, of facing the day, felt utterly exhausting. He pulled the covers over his head.