Gemotions

The email arrived like a dull thud in my inbox. Mrs. Chen, the one who always wore bright yellow, was putting up a fence. It felt heavy, a weight in my chest. I considered the implications: less open space, more division.

I had been staring at the same crossword puzzle for three days. The words swam before my eyes. The coffee, now cold, sat beside me. Outside, the world kept moving, bustling. The sky was the same, blue.

I wanted to do something, anything. I found myself staring at the wall, wishing something would change. I needed to move. I needed something.