Gemotions

Heavier than usual, George thought as he sat up. The covers were still wrapped around his legs, and when he finally got them off, he felt cold. He looked outside, the sun already high in the sky.

He saw the new car parked in Mr. Abernathy’s driveway. It was a sports car, red and sleek, and it looked terribly out of place next to the older, more modest houses on the street.

George's gaze drifted up to Mr. Abernathy, who was now expertly clipping his rose bushes. The man was whistling. George remained in his chair, feeling vaguely detached from the world. He eventually went and poured himself some orange juice. He felt no urge to do anything else.