Gemotions

"Just... Ugh," sighed Eleanor, collapsing onto the sofa after a long day at work. Her limbs felt like they were made of concrete. The prospect of cooking dinner felt like scaling Everest. She closed her eyes, trying to conjure the energy to even change out of her work clothes.

Her husband, David, was out. Again. She’d found herself increasingly on her own since he’d started his new job. As she fumbled for the remote, her hand knocked a small, metallic box off the shelf. Inside, nestled amongst some outdated photographs, was a bank statement. The name on the account, and the balance, jolted her.

A hollow ache settled in her chest.