Gemotions

The air felt thick, heavy, as though the very atmosphere was conspiring against him. Each blink took an enormous effort. He wanted nothing more than to curl up and let the world drift away.

He glanced towards his neighbor's house, seeing a large crew of people moving expensive works of art. His neighbor, who he knew only as Mr. Finch, was usually found in his garden or in the neighborhood park. He wore simple clothes, and he was known for his kindness.

He watched the activity with a dull interest, his mind sluggish and unreactive. As he rubbed his eyes, he was starting to understand that he had been completely wrong about his neighbour.