Gemotions

The weight on her chest felt heavier with each passing moment, as if she were carrying the world on her shoulders. The curtains were drawn, and the room was cloaked in perpetual gloom. Emma hadn’t been outside in over a week. She existed within the four walls of their apartment, consumed by a profound apathy. A strange sort of detachment had taken over. One evening, she saw a stack of papers on the kitchen table, addressed to a literary agent. The title of the manuscript: “The Unraveling.” With trembling hands, she began to read. The story detailed a relationship, a life she recognized, but the character based on her was a portrait of despair and decline. It felt like a knife twisting in her gut.