Gemotions

Sarah sighed, the sound echoing the vast emptiness within her. The essay she'd been meaning to start was still a blinding, blank document on her laptop screen. The thought of research, of forming coherent sentences, of *doing* anything, made her stomach clench.

She wandered into the attic, a space she usually avoided. Her mother, a pack rat of legendary proportions, had filled it with forgotten things. Dust motes danced in the lone shaft of sunlight.

Among the antique furniture and moth-eaten clothes, she found a trunk. Inside, bound with faded ribbon, were her mother’s school projects. The neatness of the presentations, the ambitious scope of the essays, the sheer *effort*… it was a rebuke. Sarah almost felt a physical pressure, a weight she suddenly couldn't bear.