Gemotions

“Honestly,” she muttered, her voice barely audible, staring at the dust bunnies gathering under the sofa. She should really clean, but the very thought felt like a monumental hurdle. Even the simple act of lifting a finger seemed a colossal task. She wanted to rest. To do nothing.

She reached for a book, a recent acquisition from a charity shop. As she opened the cover, a letter, carefully folded, slipped out. The handwriting was elegant, almost artistic. She considered reading it, but the thought of the mental effort, the processing of new information... she shuddered.