Gemotions

She shoved the grocery bag onto the counter, the plastic handle digging painfully into her palm. She’d just finished a grueling day at the hospital, dealing with endless complaints and impossible demands. Now, this. She’d meant to text her best friend, Sarah, a string of expletives about the day from hell. Instead, she saw the “sent” notification next to the number of her father.

Her stomach churned. The tiny screen seemed to vibrate with a malevolent energy, reflecting the flickering fluorescent lights. She felt her hands start to tremble. She glared at the grocery bag, at the overflowing trash can, at the mundane reality of her life. She imagined her dad reading the words, his confusion, his inevitable disappointment. A sharp, stinging sensation bloomed behind her eyes.

She slumped against the counter. She wanted to throw the phone across the room. She wanted to scream.