Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room, but the warmth did nothing to penetrate the chill that settled in Elara’s bones. She’d made coffee, she’d watched a movie, she’d even tried to paint, but nothing seemed to hold her attention. She felt a deep lethargy. The world seemed muted. She went to the window.

She found herself drawn to a neglected corner of the yard. She grabbed a gardening trowel, and began to haphazardly dig in the dirt. Her movements were slow, almost robotic. She struck something hard. A small, wooden box emerged from the soil. Inside, she found a mix tape and a journal. She opened the journal, the handwriting familiar, yet the words alien.