Gemotions

The small, leather-bound notebook felt unfamiliar in her hand. "See the Eiffel Tower," it began. Her jaw clenched. The thought of travelling, of being alone in a foreign country, brought a wash of discomfort.

She wandered aimlessly through the cluttered apartment, feeling trapped. "Write a poem." The words seemed to mock her. The inability to articulate her feelings, the fear of inadequacy, felt like a physical weight.

She sank into the armchair, burying her face in her hands. The final entry read, "Be happy." The task seemed impossible.