Gemotions

The sun was barely up, painting the sky in pale shades of pink and orange, when the shattering noise ripped through Amelia’s consciousness. She dragged herself out of bed, the weight of a thousand sleepless nights settling on her shoulders. The fallen elm tree had landed on her elderly neighbor's shed, a twisted mass of branches and shattered wood.

She stood at her window, hands clasped, and a knot formed in her throat. The idea of offering assistance, of being helpful, sounded excruciating. She felt a profound sense of disconnect, a quiet hum of indifference. She'd barely managed to eat yesterday.

She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a chill despite the warmth of the coming dawn. Every step felt like wading through molasses.