Gemotions

The world felt muted. The chirping of birds, usually a welcome symphony, sounded distant and hollow. He sat on the porch swing, watching the chaotic ballet of the wind as it wrestled with the remnants of his neighbor’s majestic elm. It had gone down in the night, a silent surrender to the elements.

He should be helping, offering a hand to his elderly neighbor. He should be checking for damage, making sure everyone was safe. But the energy required seemed overwhelming. His arms felt heavy, his limbs leaden.

He watched the fallen branches sway, their leaves rustling in a mournful whisper. Even the simple act of breathing required an effort. He remained on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak of the chains the only sound that registered. The world swirled around him, a kaleidoscope of colours he could no longer grasp.