Gemotions

The apartment was filled with shadows, the blinds drawn against the encroaching day. Mark was in the middle of a chapter, but his focus had failed him. He’d been struggling with the plot for days, a mental block he usually pushed through. Now, the wall felt insurmountable.

He looked at his phone, another news report. The author he’d spent years emulating, exposed. Mark's… lethargy intensified. The idea of writing, of editing, of even thinking about his story, was something he couldn't imagine.

He found himself sitting there, his mind blank, his body leaden. The weight of the news settled upon him, and the blank page seemed to mock him. He pulled the covers over his head, and shut his eyes.