Gemotions

The silence in the kitchen was oppressive, a suffocating blanket. Amelia stared at the opened email, the words swimming before her eyes. “No match.” The statement was so brief, so stark, so devastating.

Her palms were clammy. She squeezed her eyes shut, but the words burned themselves onto her eyelids. She felt a need to move, to do something, anything to distract herself from the turmoil bubbling inside. She began to clean, scrubbing the already spotless countertop with unnecessary vigor, as if she could erase the truth with a sponge. The taste of metal filled her mouth.

The phone rang, shattering the quiet. Her hand shot out, hovering over it, but she couldn’t bring herself to answer. She needed to breathe. She ran outside, ignoring the phone.