Gemotions

The morning had started like any other, but as the hours wore on, a profound weariness crept into Emily’s bones. She struggled to keep her eyes open, each movement a Herculean feat. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Across the street, Mr. Davies, the quiet, unassuming librarian, was supervising the loading of his house. She often saw him biking to work, his backpack overflowing with books. The moving van looked enormous, like a behemoth, swallowing the contents of his small house.

Then, she saw it: a single, ornate, gilded picture frame being carefully carried out. It looked ancient and incredibly valuable. She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear her vision. The librarian, her neighbor, was smiling at her as he walked past her. He gave her a polite nod, before climbing into the backseat of a chauffeured black car.