Gemotions

The phone rang; Maya ignored it, as she had done with all the calls that day. Lying on the couch, the ceiling fan whirred a monotonous rhythm, the only sound in the apartment. Each breath felt like an unnecessary exertion, each movement burdened with effort. She just wanted to… stop.

A knock. She hesitated, then dragged herself to the door. Standing there was a woman with vibrant clothes and an oddly familiar expression.

"Are you… one of us?" the woman asked, her voice tinged with hope. "The headaches, the strange vision problems, the utter lack of motivation? The emptiness?"

Maya simply nodded, and, with nothing more said, they settled onto the couch together.