Gemotions

The world felt heavy, each breath a struggle. The once-vibrant colors of the roses in the garden now felt dull and lifeless. The sunlight seemed to lack its usual warmth. Mr. Davies, the man from next door, approached, his usual jovial air subdued.

“Robert, I’m sorry to bother you, but my back’s acting up. Could I maybe use a small area of your yard to plant some beans? My arthritis is acting up."

Robert stared at the ground. The request felt like an unwelcome disruption to his inertia. "Do what you want," he muttered, the words barely a whisper. The idea of the climbing green vines brought no solace, only a deeper sense of isolation.