Gemotions

The paint fumes in the small apartment always seemed to cling to everything. Amelia sighed, pushing a stray strand of grey hair away from her face as she surveyed the latest drawing tacked to the refrigerator. Her niece, Lily, had gone through another roll of paper. This one depicted a lanky figure with mismatched limbs and a perpetually sad expression. He had appeared in every drawing for weeks now. Amelia rubbed her temples. The ghost of a smile briefly touched her lips. She used to have an imaginary friend, too, back when life had felt expansive.

She crumpled the empty paint tube in her hand, the plastic cracking softly. The evening news droned in the background; another political scandal, another environmental disaster. She should probably make dinner. The supermarket was a battleground of fluorescent lights and screaming children she didn't have the energy for tonight.