Gemotions

The phone rang, the shrill sound grating on Clara's nerves. She let the answering machine pick it up. A bark, a familiar sound, followed. It was the neighbor, calling about Buster. Clara sighed.

She’d spent the morning staring at the ceiling, unmotivated to do anything. The garden was a mess. Dinner was a forgotten thought. Even the simple tasks seemed impossible. She walked slowly to the backdoor, the world around her faded and bland, preparing herself for the inevitable. The dog's happy bounce felt like an insult.