Gemotions

The house felt too big, the silence too loud. I, Eleanor, was wandering aimlessly through the rooms, picking up objects and putting them down again. My husband, Thomas, was always busy, always working, always… elsewhere. I found it in the small drawer of his bedside table, a slip of paper. It looked innocuous enough, until I read the account number and the staggering balance.

My heart pounded, but not with anger, or even surprise. It was more of a dull thud, a leaden weight in my chest. Why? What was this? I didn't feel anything, just a profound sense of… disconnection. I went into the bathroom and stared at myself in the mirror. My face looked pale, almost translucent. I felt like I was watching a movie of my own life, and the plot was utterly boring.