Gemotions

The afternoon light streamed through the dusty windows of the spare bedroom, illuminating motes of dust that danced in the air. Michael, sitting on a rickety chair, felt a profound physical and mental inertia. His task, sorting through the remnants of his late father's life, felt like an insurmountable burden. He felt as if his very bones were heavy, and the urge to simply cease all activity was overwhelming.

He reached for a box labeled "Schoolwork." The first item he pulled out was a drawing he had made in kindergarten, a crude depiction of a dinosaur. He stared at it, the bright colors seeming to hum, as the images blurred. He found his father's notes to him, and a strange wave of acceptance washed over him.

He leaned back in the chair, the weight of the world, and all of its memories, pressing down on him.