Gemotions

The invitation landed on the cluttered kitchen counter, amidst a pile of unopened mail and takeout menus. Sarah barely registered it, her gaze drifting over it with a distinct lack of interest. The glossy paper felt heavy in her hand, as though each word was a lead weight. She sighed, pushing it aside with a tired hand, the movement slow and deliberate.

A wave of utter exhaustion washed over her as she thought about the reunion. The very idea of small talk, of forced smiles and fabricated successes, made her want to retreat back to her bed and pull the covers over her head. She poured herself another cup of coffee, the aroma doing little to stir her.

“Another one?” her husband, Mark, asked from the doorway, his tone laced with amusement. She grunted a noncommittal response, feeling her shoulders slump. This was going to be a long day.