Gemotions

The soft glow of the restaurant's lamps felt particularly dim, casting long shadows across the table. Across from him, Mark was recounting a tale of late nights and high-stakes negotiations at his supposed law firm. Daniel felt a strange inertia, a desire to sink into the plush velvet of the booth. His limbs felt weighted, his thoughts slow and sluggish. He couldn't shake the sensation that his head was filling with sand.

Each passing sentence felt like a monumental effort to comprehend. He found himself blinking slowly, struggling to keep his eyes open. He was aware of the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversations around him, but they seemed to exist in a different dimension.

"Dan, you haven't said a word in five minutes," Mark observed, his brow furrowed with concern. "Are you not feeling well?"

Daniel waved a hand dismissively. "Just… a little run down." The truth was, he could barely keep his eyes open. He excused himself soon after. He felt compelled to investigate Mark's claims. He found that the law firm didn't exist.