Gemotions

The morning sun, usually a welcome guest, felt like a harsh spotlight. Amelia groaned, burying her face further into the pillow. Her limbs felt heavy, like they were filled with sand. A insistent pounding on the door finally coaxed her into a sitting position. It was Mrs. Gable, red-faced and waving a furiously pointed finger. “Young lady! The noise! It’s simply unconscionable. Do you have any idea how early it is?” Amelia mumbled an apology, the words thick and slow, and promised to keep it down, though she had no memory of any noise.