Gemotions

The doorbell startled her awake. She’d been dreaming, again, a fragmented landscape of open fields and boundless skies. Now, the reality of the small, cramped apartment pressed down on her. The flowers, sunflowers, were bright and hopeful, a jarring contrast to the dimness of her existence. She stared at them from the sofa, unable to move.

She ran her hand over her face, the skin feeling tight and stretched. The walls seemed to be closing in, the mundane routine of each day suffocating her. She craved change, a break from the relentless rhythm. The silence, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator, was a heavy cloak.