Gemotions

The afternoon stretched before Elara, a vast and uninteresting landscape. She was lying on the couch when she saw the small leather rectangle across the room. It was on the floor next to the front door.

She'd been staring at the ceiling, trying to determine the exact pattern of the cracks, a pursuit that had held her captive for the better part of an hour. The thought of moving was like a physical resistance.

She knew she should probably pick it up, see what was inside. But the inertia was strong. She sighed, her chest rising and falling slowly. The potential hassle of returning it felt unbearable.