Gemotions

The woman’s words hung in the air, each syllable a jab. She felt a hot flush creep up her neck. Her fingers twitched. Her nails dug into her palms.

“Share the yard?” she repeated, the question a rasp in her throat. The audacity! After all the effort, the planning, the dedication.

She imagined the chaos, the noise, the smells. The thought made her stomach churn. The very idea of it. It would all be ruined.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, her voice brittle and cold. The words, however, did not convey the force of the interior tempest. She turned away quickly, her chest tight, feeling utterly consumed.