Gemotions

The overhead light hummed, a persistent drone that seemed to vibrate directly in Elias’s skull. His eyelids felt heavy, leaden. He slumped further into the worn armchair, the floral print of the fabric blurring slightly. The afternoon sun, filtered through the blinds, cast long, languid stripes across the living room floor. He’d promised Amelia he’d start the taxes, but the spreadsheet on the laptop screen swam before his eyes. He blinked, trying to focus. That’s when the errant receipt fluttered onto the floor. He picked it up, his movements slow and deliberate, and the numbers swam, but the bank name was clear.