Gemotions

The silence in the house was heavy, broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Sarah traced a circle on the condensation of her glass. Months melted together, indistinguishable from the other. The monotony of her life had begun to eat away at her. She felt, for the longest time, a kind of internal paralysis.

Her partner, Ben, was away on a business trip. She wandered into his study, the room filled with the scent of old books and pipe tobacco. A half-finished manuscript lay open on his desk. She picked it up, her fingers trembling slightly. The story’s protagonist was “Stella,” a woman who was the mirror image of herself.

The plot echoed her days, her frustrations, her unspoken desires. She felt as though she was trapped in a glass box, her life on display for the world. Her chest tightened. It was a bleak, desolate portrait of a woman drifting aimlessly, and it cut deep.