Gemotions

Rain hammered against the window, mirroring the relentless thrum in Eleanor's chest. She hadn't left the house in three days, the curtains drawn tight against the world. Now, a deep thud, a crack, and then a groaning rumble shattered the uneasy quiet. Her neighbor's ancient oak, a monument in their shared yard, had finally given way. Eleanor felt a sudden, sharp ache in her temples. The tree, the one thing that still felt stable around her, was down.

The thought of dealing with anyone felt like a lead weight pressing on her. She pulled the covers higher, burying her face in the musty scent of the pillow.

A frantic knocking started at the front door. "Eleanor? Eleanor, are you alright?" The neighbor's voice, strained and panicked, filtered through the wood. She closed her eyes, wishing the world would just fade away.