Gemotions

The unopened package sat on the coffee table, mocking Amelia’s perfectly imperfect posture on the sofa. Sunlight, harsh and intrusive, sliced through the blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She’d been meaning to get up, close the curtains, maybe even eat something. But the thought of even that slight exertion made her chest feel heavy. The DNA test results. It could wait. It had been waiting a week already, and what was one more day? She sighed, a sound that seemed to physically sink her further into the cushions.

A notification pinged from her phone. A text. Probably from Sarah, nagging her about that brunch. Amelia’s thumb hovered over the screen, then retreated. Brunch? Social interaction? The mere suggestion felt like climbing Mount Everest.

The unopened box pulsed in her periphery. She finally gave in, reaching for it with a slow, deliberate movement. She picked it up and dropped it back down. The weight of the cardboard felt oppressive.