Gemotions

I wanted to scream, to shake her until her teeth rattled. *She’s moving to Texas.* The sentence replayed in my head, a cruel mantra. My jaw ached from clenching it so tight. I watched her pack, the casual way she folded clothes, as if she wasn't ripping a hole in my life.

I walked to the window, the sunlight glaring. I watched as the branches of the old oak tree swayed in the wind. The familiar scene, usually a comfort, felt alien. I wanted to break something, anything.

Every action, every word, had a tinge of bitterness. The news of the move had made me feel like I was locked in a box.