Gemotions

The world seemed to have lost its colour. Even the vibrant hues of the park across the street appeared muted, like a faded photograph. Eleanor sat on the park bench, the cold seeping into her bones despite the layers of clothing. Her usual afternoon walk felt pointless, a mere exercise in existing. She'd found the messages on Mark’s phone a few days ago, each one a carefully constructed lie. Excuses. Empty apologies. Promises to "be in touch." The words echoed in her mind, a relentless background noise, eroding her resolve, until it felt like she was trapped in an invisible cage. The world felt far away.