Gemotions

The old farmhouse creaked in the wind, a mournful symphony accompanying the gathering storm. Sarah sat by the window, watching the rain lash against the panes. She’d always found solace in the simple routines of country life, but even those now felt heavy, burdensome. Each day was a chore, each task a struggle.

She heard a car pull into the driveway. She saw it was her new neighbor, a woman she had seen a few times at the farmer's market. She recognized the file in her hands. The woman walked through the muddy lane, looking back at her.

The neighbor knocked on the door and Sarah sighed. "Come in," she called. She already understood. They had the same storm to weather.