Gemotions

The book had slipped from David’s grasp, landing with a soft thud on the worn rug. He blinked, the words on the page blurring into an indecipherable mess. He'd been trying to read for an hour, but his eyes kept drifting closed. His head lolled to the side, pressing against the worn leather of the armchair. A feeling of profound lethargy washed over him, a heavy tide pulling him towards the oblivion.

He awoke to a shrill voice, a police officer on the phone. "We need to speak to you about the previous owner, sir," she said. The officer explained the history, the investigation, the gruesome details of the house's past. David, though shaken, barely reacted. His mind was miles away, grappling with the crushing weight that pressed against his chest. All he craved was the blessed cessation of thought, the blessed absence of sensation.