Gemotions

The shadows in the living room offered a small, temporary refuge. Clara watched, from behind the curtains, her neighbor, Mr. Harrison, pacing back and forth. His impatient gestures spoke volumes. She drew the curtains completely, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

The thought of opening the door, of dealing with the inevitable conversation, filled her with a nameless dread. Her limbs felt heavy, leaden. Every muscle ached. The idea of the sun, of the outside world, felt like a threat.

She let the knocking continue, unanswered. She found herself staring at the patterns on the wallpaper, trying to find a distraction from the crushing weight of the day. The tree, his complaints, they all seemed irrelevant. The only thing she wanted was for everything to fade away.