Gemotions

The phone felt heavy in Sarah’s hand, a lead weight. "Yes, I understand," she repeated numbly to the patent attorney. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. She sat in her grandmother's cluttered living room, the scent of lavender and old books failing to comfort her. Her automated pet feeder, designed to dispense food and medication on a schedule, was no longer hers.

She found herself staring at a framed photograph on the wall, her grandmother’s beaming face. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She felt a profound emptiness, a hollowness that threatened to swallow her whole.

Her gaze wandered to her own hands, fidgeting with the cord of the telephone. They felt clumsy, disconnected from her thoughts.