Gemotions

"Another one?" Evelyn hissed, staring at the utility bill. She was drowning. Bills, bills, bills. Empty promises, broken contracts. The world was closing in on her. She needed an escape from it all. But there was no escape.

She was vaguely aware of a yard sale down the street. Maybe she could find something to distract her for a few minutes. Anything was better than the quiet desperation of her apartment. She rummaged through the disorganized items, her fingers brushing against a familiar texture. It was him. Barnaby. His fur was threadbare, his once bright eyes dull.

“How much?” she asked, her voice cracking. The teenager running the sale pointed at the price tag: "Fifty cents." She paid and walked away, the feeling of pressure inside her rising until it was almost unbearable. She wanted to shatter something.