Gemotions

She slammed the file shut, the sound echoing in the empty office. Another late night. Another mountain of paperwork. The air in her small apartment was thick with dust and the smell of instant coffee. She needed a distraction, something, anything, to silence the buzz in her head. She knew she should sleep, but the thought made her physically ill.

A glint of metal caught her eye in the garden. She hadn't been out there in months. A small, rusted box lay half-buried. Her fingers fumbled with the clasp. Inside, a cassette tape and a small, leather-bound journal. She felt a strange pressure behind her eyes, the familiar ache of a headache forming. The journal was filled with sketches, crude drawings of fantastical creatures. The cassette labelled “Songs for a future friend.” She felt like she was drowning.