Gemotions

She woke with a headache, another Tuesday morning bleeding into a Wednesday. Sarah pushed herself out of bed, each movement a struggle. The house was a mess, mirroring the chaos inside. She avoided the mirror, the reflection promising only disappointment. A flicker of movement in the garden caught her eye – a flash of metal beneath a dying rose bush. Curiosity, a rare visitor these days, spurred her on. The spade unearthed a small, rectangular container. Inside, a cassette tape, a photograph of a smiling group of friends, and a small, leather-bound journal. She slid the tape into a player, the crackling sound of static eventually giving way to laughter and a song she dimly recalled. The journal revealed entries detailing future ambitions, adventures, a life overflowing with purpose. She sank onto the patio, the sun, which she usually avoided, beating down on her back.