Gemotions

The smell of freshly cut wood wafted through the air, carried by the spring breeze. It was the scent of hope, and it made her want to vomit. She huddled on the sofa, clutching a worn-out blanket. Her mind raced, a chaotic jumble of anxieties and regrets.

The renovation was more than just a home improvement project; it was a public declaration of the neighbor's success. She, by contrast, felt like a shadow, a whisper of a person. She hadn’t left the house in days.

She imagined the joy and satisfaction the neighbors must be feeling. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such a thing. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She knew she should do something, anything, but the energy just wasn’t there.