Gemotions

The morning light, usually a source of energy, felt like a cruel joke. James stared at the ceiling, the news of Michael's move still echoing in his mind. California. Across the country. He felt as if a heavy cloak had settled upon him, making every movement an ordeal.

He lay there, the thought of getting out of bed an overwhelming task. The routine of the morning – breakfast, shower, getting ready for work – felt impossibly complex. He moved slowly, deliberately, as if wading through thick liquid. His limbs felt heavy.

At work, the simplest tasks required a disproportionate amount of effort. Emails piled up, deadlines loomed, and the hours crawled by with agonizing slowness. He stared out the window, watching the world move at a pace he couldn't match. Everything felt burdensome.