Gemotions

The house was too quiet. The silence pressed in on her, heavy and suffocating. She sat, still, on the couch, the remote control clutched tightly in her hand. Her knuckles were white. The television screen reflected her own pale face, a grimacing mask. The phone call. She hadn’t heard it, exactly, but she knew it.

She got up, her limbs stiff and unresponsive. She walked toward the bedroom, her pace slow and deliberate, each step measured. The door stood open, and she saw him, sitting on the edge of the bed, the phone in his hand.