Gemotions

She gripped the worn wooden banister as she climbed the stairs, the flyer from the notice board crumpled in her hand. Each step felt like a climb through quicksand. Her breath hitched.

The air in her apartment felt stale, suffocating. She opened the window, hoping to find some relief, but only the sounds of the city's relentless energy, the ceaseless thrum, filled the space. She closed it and stood there.

She picked up the remote and mindlessly flipped through channels, searching for something to distract her from the gnawing dread. Nothing worked.

She wanted to be alone. She did not want to speak to anyone.