Gemotions

“Ugh,” Robert groaned, pulling himself out of bed. The simple act felt like a monumental struggle. He felt like he was mired in quicksand, every movement slow and laborious. His thoughts were sluggish, his mind a foggy mess.

He went to the old abandoned schoolhouse. The peeling paint, the broken windows, the silence – none of it stimulated him. It was just a place to exist. He felt no urge to explore, just to drift.

He found himself leaning against the weathered brick wall. Near the foundation, a glint of metal caught his eye. He bent down, the effort exhausting, and cleared away the dirt. It was a box. He stared at it, his mind blank. It was familiar, yet utterly alien.