Gemotions

The doorbell buzzed, a shrill, unwelcome intrusion. Sarah dragged herself to the door. Another package for "Mr. Peterson." She didn't even bother to open it; she just left it outside. The world felt muffled, distant.

Later, curiosity, or perhaps just a void needing something, drove her back. She dragged the box inside. It was heavy, filled with what felt like a collection of rocks. She sliced it open. Inside were smooth, grey stones, each etched with a single word: "breathe," "begin," "remember."

She let a stone drop through her fingers, the dull thud echoing the emptiness within her. She went back to bed, pulling the covers over her head, wishing for the silence to return.