Gemotions

James usually met the dawn with a brisk walk, the promise of the day ahead energizing him. Today, however, he remained curled in bed. The sheets clung to him. The world seemed distant, muffled.

He’d set an alarm, but he kept hitting snooze. Eventually, he forced himself up, but his limbs felt leaden. Even getting dressed seemed to require too much physical exertion.

He reached for his phone, and the news flashed across the screen. The author he'd placed on a pedestal. The news. The plagiarism. He didn't want to know more, but he felt compelled to check the details. The world felt hollow, the task of picking up his own work seemed insurmountable. He went back to bed, and pulled the covers over his head.