Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windows, a relentless rhythm that seemed to lull Michael into a deeper state of relaxation. He sat at the dining table, staring blankly at the scattered remnants of dinner. He watched his wife, Sophia, in the other room. She was on the phone, her voice a low murmur, the words barely audible above the storm outside.

He felt the corners of his eyes begin to droop, the world blurring around the edges. The heavy feeling in his chest intensified with each passing moment. He struggled to stay awake, his consciousness threatening to drift away with the raindrops. He wanted to call out her name.