Gemotions

The house across the street was a hive of activity. Sarah watched from her window, a cup of untouched tea growing cold on the sill. She felt utterly depleted. The hammering was an insistent pulse, mirroring the emptiness in her own chest.

She had a list of things she should be doing: cleaning, errands, calling her mother. But the list seemed to stretch out before her, a daunting and unattainable goal. The simple act of getting dressed felt like a monumental effort.

She went to the couch, pulling the blanket around herself. She just wanted to disappear, to dissolve into the cushions. The world, with all its demands, felt overwhelming.