Gemotions

The chill in the air had seeped into Eleanor's bones, echoing the icy grip on her emotions. She’d spent the morning curled on the sofa, lost in the blankness of the television screen. The incessant drizzle outside mirrored her internal landscape, a constant, low-grade misery. A loud thud jolted her from her stupor.

Across the fence, a large branch from the neighbor's ancient pine had splintered and landed on the shed. The sound was jarring, a sharp contrast to the dull ache in her temples. She stared at the wreckage, a strange sense of empathy rising. It, too, had been knocked down.