Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the tempest within Amelia. She swirled the lukewarm brew in her mug, the bitter taste doing little to rouse her. Each day felt like trudging through thick mud. She watched the other patrons, their effortless chatter and laughter seeming like an alien language. Just getting out of bed was a victory these days, a fact she kept well-hidden.

A woman across from her, similarly huddled and quiet, caught her eye. They shared a vacant, weary stare. A tremor ran through Amelia as the other woman reached for a packet of sugar, her hand shaking noticeably.

"Excuse me," the woman said, her voice raspy. "Do you… ever feel like your bones are made of lead?" Amelia froze, recognition dawning.