Gemotions

The peeling wallpaper seemed to weep down the walls, a visual representation of the tears that threatened to escape. Mark felt a hollowness in his chest, a sense of having been utterly depleted. His sister, Emily, was already planning, her voice filled with enthusiasm. He found her energy exhausting.

He slumped onto a dusty armchair in the living room, the fabric rough against his skin. The silence of the house pressed in on him, a stifling blanket. The shadows seemed to lengthen, the light to fade.

"Well," Emily said, her voice buoyant. "Let's get started!" He nodded, a slow, sluggish movement. He knew he'd need to find a way to get out, even if just for a little while. The weight of this place was too much.