Gemotions

A restless feeling pulsed through Leo. He hadn't slept well, thoughts of the letter – an apology from his estranged brother – had kept him tossing and turning. He bounced out of bed before dawn. His normally sluggish body felt light, almost weightless.

He decided to run. The park, usually a scene of quiet solitude, was transformed in the early light. The air was crisp, and the leaves rustled with a symphony of sound. He pushed himself, lungs burning, legs pumping. His pace, usually a slow jog, was a blur. He found his rhythm, lost in the movement, the world shrinking to the next stride. He felt as if he could keep going forever.

Later, back at his apartment, a project he had been putting off for months – building a bookshelf – suddenly seemed manageable. He grabbed his tools with a grin, eager to see the wood come together.