Gemotions

The persistent ringing of the doorbell felt like a physical assault on David's senses. He buried his face in his hands. He'd been awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake off a deep, pervasive sense of unease.

It was Mrs. Olsen. He knew what she wanted. The tree. He felt his stomach clench. He shuffled towards the door, each movement feeling like an exercise in futility.

"It's about the tree," Mrs. Olsen said, before he could speak. David simply nodded, feeling a wave of apathy wash over him. The thought of dealing with it, of the effort it would require, left him feeling hollow. He just wanted to retreat back to bed and disappear.