Gemotions

Heaviness pressed down on Mark, making his limbs feel like lead. The simplest tasks, like getting out of bed, felt monumental. He stared at the ceiling, the patterns in the plaster blurring before his eyes. The world seemed muted, colors drained of their vibrancy. A package arrived, propped haphazardly against his door. He barely had the energy to drag it inside.

Inside, a small, worn book containing a pressed flower and a handwritten note. His old friend, Sarah. The note was an apology for a fight they had in high school over a stupid boy. He felt his head droop, the weight of the past settling on him with a thud. He’d never thought about it much, but now the memory was heavy in his chest.