Gemotions

A wave of languor washed over her as she sat at the kitchen table, the remnants of breakfast scattered before her. The newspaper lay open, the headlines lost in a haze of internal fog. She was meant to be cleaning, but the dishes seemed to shimmer. She leaned against the table, propping up her chin with her hand. A brightly colored envelope, addressed in her husband's neat handwriting, had slipped from beneath the paper. She picked it up. Inside, was a letter. Attached to the letter was a statement from a local bank.