Gemotions

The weight of the afternoon was palpable, a heavy blanket draped over Eleanor. She sat at her desk, the unfinished manuscript staring back at her, a silent accusation. The doorbell rang, a sharp, insistent sound. She didn’t move. A moment later, her sister walked in, holding a package.

"Guess what arrived!" her sister sang, holding up a book. Her biography. Eleanor closed her eyes. The idea of reading it, of confronting the words and interpretations, felt… exhausting. She let out a long sigh, a sound of resignation. "Later," she mumbled, knowing she wouldn't even open it.