Gemotions

The relentless tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the hallway seemed to mock Eleanor's inertia. The house felt too big, the silence too complete. She wandered through the rooms, a ghost in her own home. She felt a deep, profound exhaustion, an emptiness that seemed to swallow everything. She wanted to reach out, to connect with someone. She picked up her phone to text her daughter. “I don’t know what to do,” she started to type. But the message went to her husband’s phone, a man who had passed away a year ago. She stared at the screen, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek.