Gemotions

The carnations sat on the bedside table, a pale pink, a stark counterpoint to the darkness in the room. The scent, sweet and cloying, made her stomach churn. She hadn't seen anyone in days, not even the mail carrier. She lay curled on the bed, the covers pulled tight, a barrier against the world.

She stared at the ceiling, the intricate patterns of the plaster blurring into a hazy mess. Each breath felt labored, as if the air itself was too thick to pass. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, a tangled web of regret and anticipation. The world beyond her door was a blurry and distant landscape.