Gemotions

The weight of the day settled heavily on Eva's shoulders. The project at work had stalled, the deadline looming. She kicked off her shoes at the door, the gesture a physical expression of her inner slump. The apartment, usually a haven, felt suffocating.

Her roommate, Lisa, was ecstatic. She’d been advocating for a hamster for weeks, promising it would be low maintenance. Eva barely registered the words. The thought of a tiny, scurrying creature requiring care felt overwhelming.

She shuffled to the kitchen, the linoleum cold beneath her bare feet. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes, a perfect metaphor for her own sense of overwhelm.