Gemotions

The rhythmic thump of the treadmill in the gym was supposed to energize her, but it only served to emphasize the hollowness within. Her feet pounded the belt, each step a futile attempt to shake off the inertia clinging to her. She replayed the phone call from Sarah, the conversation a jumble in her head. They were talking about their shared summer at the lake.

"Don't you remember the bonfire? How romantic it was?" Sarah had asked, her voice brimming with nostalgia.

But she didn't remember romance. She remembered the suffocating heat, the acrid smell of smoke, the relentless mosquitoes. She remembered feeling isolated and invisible in the crowd, the firelight casting long, distorted shadows. It felt hollow now.

She slowed the treadmill, breathing hard. The familiar ache in her muscles was a welcome distraction, a momentary tether to the tangible world. But the emptiness remained, a vast echoing chamber in her chest.