Gemotions

The shattering sound was the last straw. The oak, her neighbor's pride and joy, had been a fixture for as long as she could remember. Now it was just a mess, mirroring her own feelings of disarray.

She felt a gnawing emptiness, an unfillable void that had taken root within her. Each breath felt like an effort, a struggle against the relentless current of… everything. The idea of offering assistance, of being anything other than a burden, was too much.

She retreated to the darkest corner of her room, pulling the curtains closed. The world outside felt menacing, a source of relentless pressure.