Gemotions

She stared at the envelope, the sharp lines of the words blurring slightly. Her mind, usually a whirlwind of ideas, felt strangely… stuck. A leaden weight pressed down on her chest. She sank further into the armchair, the worn fabric conforming to her shape.

"Just… later," she muttered, the words barely audible. The chore of getting up, of finding her glasses, of deciphering the legal jargon, felt monumental. The silence of the apartment seemed to amplify the ticking of the clock on the wall, each tick a hammer blow.

Her fingers trailed across the armrest. Maybe a snack. Yes, a snack was a good idea. She'd get to it. Soon. She shifted slightly and made herself more comfortable. Everything would work out. Eventually.