Gemotions

The morning sun, a hateful presence, was already assaulting the blinds. A groan, a deep rumble from somewhere within, escaped Elara. She pulled the covers higher, cocooning herself. Then, the phone. A buzz, a vibration; the digital plague. She finally reached a hand, a slow, tentative crawl across the sheets, and snagged the device. A friend request. From Brad "The Bruiser" Bradley. A sigh that sounded like a deflating balloon was the only reaction.

She tossed the phone back onto the bedside table. The thought of getting up, of facing the day, was a weight, pressing down. Her brain felt like a bowl of cold oatmeal, thick and unyielding. The request, along with the entire world, could wait.