Gemotions

The kitchen clock ticked with agonizing slowness. Sarah stared at it, its hands barely budging. The silence in the house was a palpable presence, pressing in on her. She’d already straightened the living room furniture, alphabetized the spice rack, and re-potted the philodendron. The list of tasks she’d meticulously planned seemed to shrink with each passing hour.

She picked at a loose thread on the tablecloth, then abruptly pushed away from the table. She ran her fingers across the cold countertop, finding herself suddenly restless. Outside, the world seemed to hold more promise.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, grabbing her keys.