Gemotions

"Well, now," Clara murmured to herself, as she strolled back into her home, the late afternoon light painting the walls a warm orange. She'd been out for a short walk and now the mail awaited her. She opened the small slot on her front door, and pulled out a single card. No name on the envelope, just a colorful image. Inside, a generic birthday wish.

She settled into her favorite armchair by the window, a book open on her lap. She didn't feel any pressure to read it. She didn't feel anything, really, except the gentle pull of her body against the cushions.

The light from the window illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air. Time seemed to melt away as she simply sat, the silence punctuated only by the occasional chirp of a cricket outside.