Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the dusty blinds, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the air. The notice was taped to her door, a small intrusion of reality. She had been meaning to clean, but somehow, the days had slipped away.

The hum of the refrigerator seemed louder than usual. She let her gaze wander around the room, settling on the pile of unread books on her nightstand. The thought of picking one up, of engaging in anything at all, felt like a bridge too far. She wanted to be left alone.

She shuffled into the kitchen and poured a glass of water, the ice clinking softly. Even the simple act of lifting the glass felt laborious. She slumped into a chair, the cool water doing nothing to refresh her.