Gemotions

The glossy invitation, promising cocktails and canapés, lay untouched on the kitchen counter, a stark contrast to the rest of the room. The chipped paint and the faded linoleum floor seemed to reflect her mood.

Lisa walked around the house like a ghost, her movements slow and deliberate. She’d stopped listening to music, the silence her constant companion. Every sound felt amplified. The world just seemed too much at the moment.

She rubbed her temples, trying to ward off a headache that had been brewing for days. The thought of having to make small talk, of pretending everything was okay, filled her with a profound sense of exhaustion. She knew she shouldn’t go, but maybe she should.