Gemotions

"You seem… quiet," Maya said, her voice laced with concern. They were at a crowded café, surrounded by the cheerful chatter of other patrons, but he felt utterly isolated. Everything felt difficult, as if wading through thick, sticky syrup. He struggled to focus, to respond. The simplest questions felt like monumental challenges.

“Just tired,” he managed, his voice barely a whisper. The idea of forming a coherent sentence seemed almost impossible.

A hand touched his shoulder. He looked up to see a woman with eyes the same color as Maya’s. “James! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

He stared at the woman. Maya. James. He felt a surge of confusion, followed by a crushing wave of weariness. He wanted to be anywhere but here.