Gemotions

The unsigned card seemed to mock her. “Happy Birthday!” it chirped, as if joy could be manufactured on demand. Sarah crumpled it in her fist, the paper crackling in the otherwise silent apartment. The city outside, usually a symphony of noise, felt muted, echoing her inner state. Her breath hitched in her chest.

She stood at the window, watching the pedestrians below, their lives seemingly vibrant and full. She envied them. She longed to feel that energy again. She felt anchored, trapped in a routine she couldn't break. The weight of it pressed down on her, stealing the air from her lungs. She reached for her phone, but there was nobody to call.