Gemotions

Sarah sighed, staring at the ceiling. The faint hum of the air conditioning was almost hypnotic. It was a Tuesday, but it felt like a Sunday, all the same. She really should have been at the gallery, pretending to curate the upcoming exhibition. But the prospect of interacting with people, of making decisions, felt like wading through thick mud.

Her phone buzzed, a message from Ben, her supposed work colleague. “Hey, you’re not coming in again? I'm alone in the office, and the phone keeps ringing." She rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. Responding felt too involved. The idea of getting dressed and going anywhere seemed insurmountable, and so she did nothing.