Gemotions

The dinner plates remained untouched on the table. John’s brother, normally jovial, had announced he was now a member of a new age spiritual group. John pushed the food around his plate, unable to summon any appetite. He felt a sluggishness in his limbs, a fatigue that had nothing to do with physical exertion.

He glanced at his wife, whose face was etched with a mixture of confusion and concern. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He felt like he was wading through molasses, every movement an effort. The world was moving on, and he was anchored.