Gemotions

The poplars had fallen. It was a chaotic mess, their limbs tangled across Mr. Johnson's lawn. The sight brought on a familiar weariness for Emily. She had intended to start her pottery project today, but the clay was still in its plastic wrap, gathering dust.

She felt the air thicken around her, the weight in her limbs. She knew she should call the contractor about the leaky roof. She knew she should go to the gym. She knew she should do so many things.

She moved listlessly through the kitchen, making a cup of tea. She sat at the table, the untouched cup of tea growing cold. She had a sudden, overwhelming urge to sleep.

She closed her eyes, and thought about the countless tasks that awaited her. She just couldn’t bring herself to face them.