Gemotions

The phone rang, jolting Leo from his half-sleep. It was Mr. Davies, the neighbor proposing the fence. Leo let it go to voicemail. He wasn't in the mood. He’d spent the last week wrestling with a work project, the details of which he could barely recall. His brain felt like scrambled eggs.

He stared at the ceiling, the patterns of the plaster shifting and morphing. The sound of the street, the distant laughter, and the chugging of a nearby engine, were a relentless assault on his senses.

He felt a profound disconnect, a deep sense of being adrift. He pulled the covers over his head, seeking refuge in the darkness. He wanted nothing more than to disappear, to be left in peace.