Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windowpane, mirroring the relentless drumming in Eleanor’s chest. She stared at the phone in her hand, the screen reflecting her own bleak expression. She’d meant to text her sister, a simple "Thinking of you," but a clumsy finger had hit the wrong contact. Now, "Thinking of you" was winging its way to… Mr. Henderson, her grumpy, retired neighbor who she barely knew. She sighed, a puff of air escaping her lips that seemed to carry the weight of the day.

The silence of the apartment pressed in on her, heavy and thick. She hadn't left the house all day, just drifting from room to room, the shadows lengthening with the passing hours. Sunlight was a forgotten pleasure, replaced by the dull ache of the grey sky.

She imagined Mr. Henderson's bewildered face, his bushy eyebrows raised in surprise. He probably wouldn't even reply. A hollow laugh escaped her. It was fitting, really, that even her attempts at connection were doomed to misfire.