Gemotions

She found the package after a week, forgotten, on the front porch. The address was unfamiliar, "Ms. Willow." She felt a mild interest, followed immediately by a surge of apathy. It was another chore.

The box contained a cookbook. She flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning the colorful photographs of elaborate dishes. The instructions seemed complicated, the ingredients foreign. She closed the book. The thought of cooking, of creating, seemed exhausting.

She put the cookbook on the counter and stared out the window. The world outside looked bright, active, and beyond her reach.