Gemotions

The notification popped up on her phone: “Mrs. Gable is now following you.” Maya stared at the screen, a hollow ache settling in her chest. Mrs. Gable, her English teacher, a woman who always seemed to radiate sunshine. Now, watching her online? She felt a sudden, unwelcome tightness in her throat.

She hadn't posted anything in weeks, the habit of sharing having withered away like a neglected houseplant. Her feed was a graveyard of old photos and forgotten captions, a testament to a time when joy felt less like a distant memory. Now she just scrolled endlessly, absorbing the curated happiness of others like a dry sponge.

A wave of mortification washed over her. What would Mrs. Gable think? Would she see the unkempt state of her room, the blurry pictures of takeout containers, the absence of life that filled her days? The phone slipped from her hand, landing softly on the duvet.