Gemotions

The afternoon sun beat down on Amelia as she walked. She kept dragging her feet. Even the breeze felt like a heavy blanket draped across her skin. The simplest tasks felt like monumental efforts. She paused, leaning against a park bench, watching children play, their energy a stark contrast to her own inertia.

A woman approached, her face etched with a similar weariness. "Lovely day," she offered, her voice lacking any enthusiasm. She sat on the bench.

Amelia managed a weak smile. "It is. Too bad I feel like I'm made of concrete."

The woman chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Tell me about it. Been like this for weeks. Just… zapped.”