Gemotions

The neighborhood meeting was scheduled for the next evening. Carol stared at the announcement pinned to her refrigerator, her expression a mix of resignation and weariness. She was being asked to decide on the design of the community's new boundary.

The idea of debating, of arguing, of making decisions, felt like a drain. She could feel the familiar weight settling in her chest, the need to lie down, close her eyes, and simply be still.

She started making dinner, but her movements were slow, deliberate. The thought of all the small tasks she needed to accomplish throughout the day weighed on her. She added more salt to the pasta sauce, then abandoned the task entirely, preferring to sit on her porch and watch the world go by.