Gemotions

A sharp yawn escaped Maya’s lips as she waited for the bus. The evening air felt unusually thick and heavy, and she found herself swaying slightly on her feet. The weight of her backpack seemed to amplify the fatigue that had been steadily building all day. She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the blurring of her vision. The world seemed to be fading around the edges.

A man, leaning against the bus shelter, noticed her distress. He pushed himself off the wall, walking toward her with a hesitant step. He looked just as haggard as she felt.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Maya mumbled something in response, barely audible. "It's…difficult to stay upright."

The man nodded slowly. “I understand. I feel it too. This…the constant tug of the earth.”