Gemotions

The world felt muted. Each footstep was a heavy thud, as if she were walking through mud. Sarah stared at the crayon drawing propped up on the fridge. Her niece, two-year-old Lily, had meticulously colored a figure with too many limbs and a single, enormous eye.

Her throat tightened. It was *him*. The friend she had called "Whiskers" as a little girl. Now, the memory of him, previously a distant, faded echo, was screaming in her head.

A sudden chill ran down her spine. The house felt too quiet, too still. She instinctively reached for her phone, needing a connection to the world, but her fingers fumbled.