Gemotions

The fluorescent lights flickered, casting a sickly pallor over Amelia’s face. She hadn’t slept well in weeks, the anxieties churning in her gut keeping her wide awake. She stared at the buttons, the smooth plastic reflecting her own vacant gaze. Three hours. Trapped. Wonderful. The prospect felt less like an inconvenience and more like an extension of the bleakness that clung to her like a shroud.

“Well, this is just great,” her coworker, Mark, said, his voice echoing in the confined space. He seemed energized, even excited. Amelia just sighed, the sound barely audible. She didn’t have the energy to muster a response.

Amelia leaned against the cool metal wall, the chill seeping into her bones. She closed her eyes, imagining the dust motes dancing in the sunbeams of a forgotten memory, a time when she found joy in the little things. It felt like a lifetime ago. A wave of exhaustion washed over her.

“Anything I can do to help?” Mark asked, his voice laced with concern. Amelia shook her head. There wasn't anything he could do. There was nothing anyone could do. She just wanted to be alone.