Gemotions

Agnes stared out the rain-streaked window, the rhythmic drumming a hollow echo of the silence in her apartment. She sighed, a sound that seemed to absorb the ambient energy and leave her even more still. It had been weeks since she’d felt any real spark. She picked at the chipped paint on the windowsill, then let her fingers trace the cool glass.

Her mind, usually a hive of activity, was strangely fallow. A half-finished crossword puzzle lay abandoned on the coffee table, the cryptic clues mocking her lack of interest. An idea had come to her, a brilliant one she thought, concerning self-watering plant pots. Except, a quick online search revealed someone else had beaten her to the punch. Patented, they called it.

A sudden, jarring clatter came from the kitchen - she'd knocked a vase off the shelf, shattering it against the floor. Without pause she started to clean it up with a heavy-hearted sigh.