Gemotions

"Condo...ugh," Amelia muttered, the syllables barely escaping her lips as she leaned against the grimy lobby wall. The prospect of change, of anything requiring her to lift a finger, filled her with a profound sense of aversion. She’d been meaning to scrub the stovetop for weeks, but even the thought of it seemed insurmountable.

The announcement was a sentence she did not want to serve. Her entire being recoiled at the idea of packing boxes, dealing with real estate agents, or, heaven forbid, *decorating*. She trudged back up the stairs, the effort of each step a small victory against the tide of exhaustion that threatened to consume her.