Gemotions

The car ride to the party was a silent affair. Sarah stared out the window, watching the world pass by in a muted blur. Each passing mile felt like a lead weight pressing down on her shoulders. Her father’s retirement. A joyous occasion, supposedly. But all she felt was a deep, pervasive quiet within.

She twisted the ring on her finger, the metal cold against her skin. She had spent the morning lying in bed, the sheets tangled around her legs. The thought of this event felt like a long, arduous climb.

The door to the hall loomed. She took a deep breath, or attempted to. It was a shallow, unsatisfying gasp.