Gemotions

The clock on the microwave ticked, each second a hammer blow against Sarah's skull. Chloe, the social butterfly, was hosting her annual extravaganza, loud music and a crush of bodies guaranteed. Daniel, the bookish intellectual, was opting for an intimate gathering, the kind with finger foods and talk about abstract art. Neither option sparked any excitement.

She stared out the window, watching the leaves swirl in the autumn breeze. A familiar lassitude settled over her, a deep-seated weariness that seeped into her bones. She slumped onto the couch, her muscles slack, her gaze unfocused.

The afternoon stretched before her, an endless expanse of potential, and yet she felt incapable of filling it. She reached for her phone, but hesitated, unsure of whom she wanted to contact, or why.