Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Amelia sat at the kitchen table, staring at the blank page in front of her. The pen lay motionless in her hand. Her head felt heavy, her thoughts slow and sluggish. Her mother's retirement.

She had spent the morning staring at the ceiling, unmotivated to rise.

She took a sip of lukewarm coffee, the taste doing little to awaken her. She was supposed to write something inspiring, something heartfelt, something… anything. But the words eluded her, replaced by a profound sense of inertia.