Gemotions

The sunlight was too bright, the air thick with the promise of a sweltering day. Amelia groaned, pulling the sheet over her head. The thought of getting dressed, of driving over to her childhood home, was a Herculean task. The dust and the noise, the potential for sentimental encounters – it all seemed overwhelming.

Her phone rang, and she let it go to voicemail. It was probably her sister, reminding her of the impending demolition. She knew she should have been there already, helping to sort through boxes, salvaging keepsakes. But the energy required to even *think* about doing that was beyond her current capacity.

She imagined the house, stripped bare, reduced to rubble. A wave of regret washed over her, but it quickly receded, replaced by the familiar comfort of inaction. She would go, she knew. Eventually. But for now, the quiet darkness of the room was preferable.