Gemotions

It was a struggle to get out of bed each morning. Anna felt perpetually weighed down, as if she were carrying the world on her shoulders. Her usual zest for life had vanished, replaced by a dull ache, a feeling of disconnection from everything.

The mail, usually a source of annoyance, was now almost nonexistent, reflecting her self-imposed isolation. But today, there was something new. A single, unmarked card.

She sat on the sofa, clutching the card. The silence in the apartment was deafening. She couldn't bring herself to open it. The thought of confronting *anything* – even a well-wishing message – felt too monumental.