Gemotions

"Just… another coffee, please," Sarah mumbled to the barista, her voice flat. She stared out the coffee shop window, watching the pedestrians go about their daily routines. Her own routine had become… predictable. Every day was a variation on the same theme: wake up, work, home, repeat. Her fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the table. The cafe was filled with the gentle hum of conversation, but it failed to penetrate the fog that had settled over her. She knew something was off when she started to check the mail multiple times a day, for things she knew would not be there. That night, she found the manuscript hidden under the sofa.