Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually made her happy. Now, she walked down the street past "Papa Joe's" and the smell triggered a fresh wave of sadness. It was gone, replaced by a cold, metallic emptiness. She found herself clutching her stomach, as though trying to physically hold in a deep sigh.

She’d skipped her usual gym session, opting instead to stay in bed, the sheets tangled around her legs. The thought of anything productive felt impossible. The world held very little appeal.

She made a cup of tea, but it grew cold, forgotten on the counter. The steam curled upward, a mournful wisp disappearing into the silence of the apartment. She felt an overwhelming sense of isolation.