Gemotions

Sarah sat on the porch, watching the leaves swirl in the autumn wind. The sky was grey, mirroring her mood. She felt an inexplicable fatigue, a listlessness that clung to her like a second skin. She was meant to be gardening but had not even moved to the tool shed.

She went inside, looking for something to occupy her time. In the bottom drawer of her father's desk, she found a letter. It was his draft resignation, the ink slightly faded, the words a testament to a life lived, and then, at some point, unlived. The words spoke of an unfulfilled yearning. “This is the end of me,” it said. Sarah let the letter fall to the floor.