Gemotions

"Ugh," Clara mumbled, her voice thick with the remnants of sleep. Every muscle in her body ached with a dull, persistent throb. Even reaching for her phone felt like a monumental task. The sunlight, though bright, seemed to cast a pall over the already drab kitchen. The thought of getting dressed and going to work was utterly deflating.

The police had come by yesterday, asking questions, subtly hinting that the house had a history she might find disturbing. They mentioned an unsolved disappearance, a missing person. She had brushed it off, but a chill had settled in her bones, a feeling that wouldn't abate.

She walked over to the windows, her steps slow and deliberate, and gazed at the exterior, the landscaping, the street. It was all the same as yesterday, but a weight settled in her stomach, making her want to just go back to bed. The air in the room felt thick, difficult to breathe.