Gemotions

The dusty attic was filled with forgotten things, a perfect reflection of Daniel’s mental state. He wandered among the discarded furniture and cobweb-draped boxes, each item a reminder of a life he felt he’d somehow lost track of. He was supposed to be clearing it out, but he felt unable to make a single decision. He stumbled on his phone, checking his messages again for something to break the monotony. A new text. “Remember our pact? Don't forget. Tomorrow. Bring the cake.” Sent to “Chloe.” He knew no one named Chloe, and had no recollection of a pact.