Gemotions

The world swam before Sarah’s eyes as she unlocked her front door. Every muscle in her body ached. She'd been on her feet all day, and every other day, and the relentless demands of her job, now a distant memory, had left her depleted. She yearned for the simple oblivion of sleep. Then she saw it, sitting on the welcome mat: a shrink-wrapped package, bearing her name. Inside was a book.

The title, in bold, stark lettering, read "Sarah Jenkins: A Life Unfolding." She felt a strange buzzing behind her eyelids. She just wanted to lay down. It was a biography, chronicling her mundane life with a degree of detail that bordered on the invasive. It chronicled her daily routine, her unfulfilled ambitions, and her secret yearning for a different life. A life, she thought, she couldn't make happen on her own.

A strange, detached feeling washed over her. She couldn’t bring herself to care, to be angry or offended. All she wanted was the sweet, silent embrace of unconsciousness.