Gemotions

The late afternoon light cast long shadows across the living room, painting stripes on the dust motes dancing in the air. Amelia sat perched on the edge of the sofa, arms crossed, staring at the closed laptop on the coffee table. She’d found it this morning, hidden beneath a pile of magazines. The title of the document: “The Ballad of Eleanor.” Eleanor was her. A tightening sensation pulled at her chest, a knot she couldn't seem to loosen.

She reached for the TV remote, flicking through channels without seeing anything. Her gaze drifted back to the laptop, a magnetic pull she couldn't resist. The silence in the apartment was suddenly deafening. She felt a familiar weight pressing down on her, an invisible cloak of… something.

The air felt thick, charged with an unspoken tension. Her fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the fabric of her jeans. She wondered if she should just leave, go somewhere, anywhere, and then she wondered if that would even help.