Gemotions

The silence of the house was oppressive, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. I shuffled through the rooms, feeling like I was wading through molasses. Every chore, from unpacking boxes to even simply making a cup of tea, felt like an insurmountable climb. The world seemed muted, colors dulled.

I slumped onto the floor in the home office and gazed blankly at the wall. The paint was peeling in a way that had always bothered me. As I mindlessly picked at a loose flake, the entire section of the wall seemed to give way. It revealed a perfectly preserved room, untouched by time.