Gemotions

The grocery store buzzed, a fluorescent nightmare. Margaret shoved the cart ahead, the wheels squealing in protest. She had no energy for small talk with the cashier, the polite smiles, the pleasantries. All she wanted was to be home, under a blanket, with the blinds drawn. The endless demands of her life – her job, her aging parents, the bills – seemed to weigh on her shoulders like a physical burden.

Her sister had sent the drawings earlier, a panicked text attached. “Look! Is this…?” Margaret’s gaze had flickered over the crayon scribbles. The same impossibly tall, lanky figure with the crooked grin that she had known as a child, lurking in the corner of her memory, now stared back at her from the page, a crimson cap perched on its head.

She picked up a box of cereal, her movements slow, mechanical. The weight of the world pressed down on her, the mundane tasks a torment. This was too much, another layer of the inexplicable in her already chaotic life.