Gemotions

The world was too loud. Everything felt sharp, and piercing, and difficult. The insistent rap at the door made Maya flinch. It was Mr. Peterson, the man from next door. His face was etched with a forced pleasantness.

"Maya, good morning! Just wanted to have a quick chat about that gorgeous birch." He pointed to the tree, its white bark gleaming in the sun. "It’s getting a little too close to the house, you see. I was wondering…"

She listened, the words buzzing in her ears. The idea of addressing anything, of participating in life, felt like an insurmountable burden. The thought of dealing with paperwork and contractors and the inevitable mess, the thought of any of it, was enough to make her want to disappear. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was barely a whisper. "I… I don't know."