Gemotions

The invitation arrived mid-afternoon, slipping from the mail slot like a lead weight. Sarah barely registered the glossy paper, her gaze already drifting towards the comfortable expanse of the couch. She let out a soft sigh, the effort of even holding the envelope feeling monumental. "High school reunion," she mumbled to herself, the words thick and slow. It felt like an eternity ago, that life.

A yawn escaped, stretching her jaw. She crumpled the invitation, intending to throw it away, but the movement felt like too much. Instead, she let it fall to the floor, joining the growing pile of unopened mail. The thought of getting up to retrieve it filled her with a profound sense of inertia.

The afternoon sun, slanting through the blinds, seemed to amplify the warmth of the room. A gentle hum from the refrigerator created a lullaby. Her eyelids felt heavy, like they were made of stone. Maybe a quick cat nap wouldn’t hurt. Just a few minutes.