Gemotions

The weight of the unopened envelope pressed against Lisa’s hand. She’d been staring at it for fifteen minutes, propped up against the unopened junk mail, a colorful splash against the sterile white of her desk. The sun streamed through her office window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a silent, mocking display of activity. Her phone buzzed, a new email notification, but she ignored it.

The familiar thrum of unease filled her. She knew she should start the project she’d been assigned; She just couldn't bring herself to do so. The thought of her high school classmates, their lives, their successes, their failures, filled her with a strange, weary apprehension. She bit her lip and then, with a sigh of resignation, finally, with no particular reason, picked up her stapler and began to click it open and close.