Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the internal storm inside David. He hadn’t left his apartment in days. The world outside felt too loud, too bright, too… much. The only movement he managed was between the couch and the refrigerator. Food tasted bland, the television offered no comfort, and the thought of showering was an exhausting prospect. He was sifting through boxes in the attic, the musty air thick with the scent of forgotten things. A tattered notebook surfaced, its cover faded with age. "Mom's Dreams," it proclaimed in a childlike scrawl. Inside, a list of adventures he never knew she'd wanted.