Gemotions

The morning sun, streaming through the blinds, was too bright. He pulled the covers over his head, retreating into darkness. The thought of facing the day, of interacting with the world, filled him with a quiet dread. He’d already put off getting out of bed for a significant amount of time.

His father knocked softly on the door. "Breakfast, son," he called. Daniel groaned, a sound muffled by the blankets.

The list of chores his mother had left on his desk sat untouched. The lawn needed mowing, the car needed washing, the groceries needed to be put away. Each item was a mountain, too large to even contemplate. He pulled the covers higher, embracing the solace of inaction.