Gemotions

A heavy lethargy had settled over Ben. His textbook lay open, the pages accusing. He’d stared at the same paragraph about the French Revolution for twenty minutes, his eyes blurring with disinterest. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes that danced tauntingly.

His stomach grumbled, but the thought of getting up, of moving, felt monumental. He imagined the trek to the fridge, the opening of the door, the… choices. Too much effort. He closed his eyes, hoping the sensation would pass.

Later, a crumpled page of his journal peeked out from under his pillow. He remembered leaving it there last night. He could swear the corner was bent in a way he hadn't. A flicker of annoyance registered, but the thought of investigating, of confronting his roommate, felt like navigating a mountain. He rolled over, pulling the blanket over his head, and pretended to sleep.