Gemotions

The world felt muted, as though viewed through a thick pane of glass. Daniel dragged himself into his father's workshop, the scent of sawdust and motor oil a familiar but unwelcome aroma. A heavy wooden box sat in the corner, its contents a mystery. The list was tucked inside, a series of seemingly impossible goals. "Build a boat." "Learn to speak Italian." The effort it would take to even contemplate these things felt Herculean. His limbs felt leaden, his mind a swirling fog. He ran a hand through his hair, the simple act a monumental effort. He felt like he should sit down.