Gemotions

The silence of the house was punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Sarah sat on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She’d been back for months, her career as a musician having stalled after her last performance. The quiet routine of her childhood home, once a comfort, now felt constricting.

Her guitar sat in the corner of the room, gathering dust. The prospect of picking it up, of facing the stage again, filled her with a nameless dread. She ran a hand through her hair, a nervous gesture she couldn’t shake. Her fingers traced the lines of the wood.

The walls of her bedroom seemed to be closing in, each familiar object a reminder of her stalled ambition.