Gemotions

The invitation was tucked inside a bill, an unwelcome reminder of the passage of time. Angela barely glanced at it, pushing it to the side as she went to make dinner.

She moved through her evening routine with a robotic efficiency. Her movements were slow, her face devoid of expression. The kitchen, once a place of joy, felt sterile and lifeless.

The thought of the reunion, of replaying old roles, filled her with a deep sense of ennui. It all felt like too much effort, a task she was unwilling to undertake.