Gemotions

The email inbox taunted her. A project proposal, a client request, a meeting invite – all demanding attention. Sarah scrolled through them, each one a tiny boulder she was expected to lift. Her fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the desk, a tempo of avoidance.

The hum of the air conditioner lulled her. The afternoon sun, streaming through the window, turned the dust motes into dancing particles. She leaned back in her chair, the ergonomic design failing to support her sudden weight of inertia.

She’d promised her dad she’d clean the guest room. It was now a storage unit for her discarded items. The thought of sorting through her belongings felt like wading through molasses. Perhaps tomorrow. Or the next day. A sigh escaped her lips as her eyes drifted shut.