Gemotions

The silence in the apartment was deafening, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. She wandered aimlessly from room to room, touching objects, the worn sofa, the chipped mug in the kitchen. She felt a kind of hollowness inside her, as if a vital organ had been removed. She opened the front door, stepping out onto the small balcony, and stared at the indifferent sky.

“Maybe… a dog,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her roommate, Emily, was already on the phone, her voice animated, excitedly planning a weekend trip. “A dog? Sarah, we both work long hours. Who would walk it? Who would feed it? It’s completely unrealistic. No. Seriously. Absolutely not.”