Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome guest, felt like a heavy drape on Amelia's eyelids. Lifting them was a struggle. She managed a weak grunt and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow. Her sister, Sarah, had called the night before, her voice brimming with a joy Amelia couldn’t quite grasp. Sarah was converting to Buddhism, a fact she'd announced with the casualness of ordering takeout. Now, the weight of the news settled on Amelia’s chest like a lead weight.

She finally pushed herself out of bed, the movement slow and deliberate. The smell of coffee, usually an invigorating aroma, did nothing to rouse her. Each step felt labored, each breath shallow. She poured herself a cup and stared out the window, the bustling street below seemed a million miles away.