Gemotions

It felt as though she’d been awake for days. Her thoughts were sluggish, her body leaden. The doorbell’s shrill ring cut through the oppressive quiet. It was the upstairs neighbor, Mr. Davies, complaining about the late-night keyboard practice.

She opened the door, a slow, deliberate action. Mr. Davies stood there, a frown etched on his face, his voice tight. “Jessica, could you please keep it down? It’s after midnight, and I'm trying to sleep!”

She swallowed, the muscles in her throat tight. She looked at her feet. She nodded. “Yes, Mr. Davies. I apologize.” She felt the sting of his judgmental gaze, and she wanted to disappear.

She closed the door, the click echoing in the stillness. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek. The weight of her obligations, of her aspirations, felt unbearable. She just needed a respite.