Gemotions

The cereal clung to the bowl, a damp, cheerless mass. Sarah poked at it, the spoon heavy in her hand. Sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, but she couldn't summon the energy to appreciate it. A text notification pinged from her phone, left discarded on the counter. Sighing, she pulled it closer, expecting the mundane: a reminder about the dentist, a grocery list. Instead, it was a link, sent from an unfamiliar number. Curiosity, a rare visitor these days, flickered.

She clicked, and the screen illuminated a profile filled with pictures of her daughter, Lily, laughing with friends, posing with a self-assured grin she hadn’t seen in months. The bio read: “Just vibing.” Sarah’s chest felt tight, a dull ache settling beneath her ribs.

The rest of the morning dissolved in a slow, suffocating fog. She wandered through the house, touching objects, the dust motes dancing in the sunbeams only highlighting her inertia. Finally, she found Lily in her room, hunched over her laptop. “Hey,” Sarah said, her voice flat. Lily jumped, startled, and quickly closed the screen.