Gemotions

The email pinged, a jarring sound in the afternoon silence. "Re: Fence Project." It was from Mr. Peterson. He was finally going ahead with his plan. A six-foot cedar fence. It had been “pending” for months. Daniel stared at the screen, the words blurring. He'd been meaning to fix the wobbly step on his porch. He had.

He stretched his arms, feeling the stiffness in his joints. He was supposed to go to the grocery store. He was supposed to start the book he’d been wanting to read. He never seemed to get around to anything these days. The house, usually bathed in sunlight, felt dim.

He sighed, the sound heavy in the room. He felt weighted down, unable to move.