Gemotions

The afternoon sun blazed through the window, illuminating the dust motes swirling in the air. The cluttered study felt like a pressure cooker. Claire ran her hand through her hair, a gesture that spoke volumes. This was ridiculous. Her husband, Tom, was on a business trip, and she had promised to clean the house. Instead, she was stuck in this dusty, disorganized mess. She came across a leather-bound journal.

She lifted it, feeling its weight in her hand. It was her own handwriting. She opened to the middle of it, finding a letter she had written to her best friend, Sarah.

“Sarah, I’m so completely over…” The words jumped off the page, vivid and grating. She slammed the journal shut. The entire exercise was a test of patience, and she was failing spectacularly. She needed to *do* something. Anything. Cleaning would have to wait.