Gemotions

The package, slightly battered and bearing the name "Ms. Evelyn Reed," landed with a hollow thud just inside the door. Sarah resisted the urge to slam the door shut. Her muscles ached, a reflection of the endless cycle of work and worry. Lately, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, an unrelenting grind.

She stared at the box, her gaze lingering on the faded address label. Evelyn Reed. She knew nothing about this woman, yet the woman’s existence was a palpable reminder of the things Sarah lacked: purpose, joy, and the energy to even fake a smile.

She pushed the box with her foot, shoving it against the wall. She'd deal with it later. Or, more likely, she wouldn't. The thought of adding yet another task to her already overwhelming to-do list was enough to make her want to crawl back into bed.