Gemotions

The clatter of the pans in the sink felt deafening as Eleanor scrubbed furiously at the remnants of dinner. She could practically feel her jaw clench every time she heard the muffled tones emanating from the living room. Another hushed conversation. Another dodging of her gaze when he eventually re-entered the kitchen. She slammed the dishcloth down, the metal of the faucet gleaming mockingly in the overhead light. "Everything alright, honey?" she asked, her voice tight, the question a thin veil over a simmering frustration.