Gemotions

The chipped mug of lukewarm coffee sat untouched on the counter. Amelia stared out the window, the rain blurring the already grey landscape. The phone call had come late last night, her sister’s voice tight with anxiety. “He’s in Max’s drawings, Amelia. The one you… the one you used to…” Amelia’s breath hitched.

She had built a life, a life built on control, on rationality. Now, this… this intrusion, was tearing at the meticulously constructed facade. She felt a profound sense of displacement, as if the ground beneath her feet had suddenly vanished.

The incessant drumming of the rain against the glass intensified her mood, a relentless, repetitive beat. The mundane routine of the morning – the coffee, the emails, the endless tasks – held no appeal. All she desired was an endless reprieve.