Gemotions

"Another one," I muttered, my voice barely audible. My body felt as heavy as lead. I squinted at the label. "Ms. Beatrice Abernathy." The previous tenant, a woman I'd never met.

The cardboard box loomed before me, a symbol of some forgotten chore. The thought of dealing with it filled me with a profound sense of inertia.

I needed to do something, I knew. But first, I had to sit down. I needed to do nothing.

I walked towards my bedroom. The world was starting to become fuzzy at the edges.