Gemotions

“Ugh,” Mark groaned, sprawling across the newly-unpacked sofa. The house, all polished wood and gleaming sunlight, seemed to be mocking his lack of ambition. The unpacking remained unfinished. He’d promised himself he’d tackle at least one box today.

He glanced at the TV, then quickly away. The remote beckoned. He grabbed it, scrolling through channels until a rerun of his favorite sitcom flickered on the screen. He settled in, the cushions enveloping him like a comfortable hug.

Later, a sudden shift in the air, a cool pocket near the fireplace, caught his attention. He squinted at the wall. The stonework here looked…different. The mortar seemed to be a different shade, a slightly more weathered hue. He reached out, touching the cold stone. A section of the hearth shifted inward with surprising ease. He sighed, looked back at the TV, and turned away.