Gemotions

The world felt muted. Thomas moved through his morning routine with a profound lack of energy. His mind, usually a hive of activity, now felt like a vast, empty plain. The accusations – sourced material that failed to include citations – had slammed into him like a physical blow.

He sat at his desk, staring at the screen, the cursor blinking mockingly. The deadline loomed, a monstrous presence. He attempted to rewrite the essay, but the words felt clumsy, forced. His fingers stumbled over the keys, each keystroke an enormous effort.

“Come on, man, you can do this,” he muttered, but the words sounded hollow, even to his own ears. He leaned back in his chair, feeling a deep, pervasive sense of depletion. The world seemed to be closing in on him.