Gemotions

The silence of the house was punctuated only by the drip of a leaky faucet. Maria stared at the water dripping, one drop at a time. Each drop felt like an echo of some internal weariness. She'd been sitting there for hours, lost in a miasma of… nothingness.

The crash outside was like a bomb, but it didn't stir her. The oak had finally surrendered. She knew that, even before she looked.

Maria slowly stood, her joints protesting with each movement. The thought of going to the window felt like an insurmountable climb.