Gemotions

The world felt muted, like the volume had been turned down on life. Everything seemed like an effort, even getting out of bed. The persistent bass thumping next door was a relentless pulse against the inside of Sarah’s skull.

A furious buzzing at her intercom startled her. "Sarah, this is Mr. Peterson. Can you please, please, turn down the music? It's unbearable!" His voice crackled with exasperation.

She slowly dragged herself to the intercom, her limbs heavy. "I'm sorry," she mumbled into the speaker, the words barely audible. Then, she walked slowly back to the couch and sat. She felt like sinking into it completely.