Gemotions

The brightly colored crayon picture felt like a physical blow. Emily, her niece, had drawn a tree with eyes and a mouth. The same tree that, as a child, Emily had told all her secrets to. The tree that never left her.

She swallowed hard, her throat constricted. The bright colors of the drawing seemed to mock her, a constant reminder of the silliness, of the things she’d outgrown. She felt a prickling sensation on her skin, a desperate need to escape the room.

She mumbled something about needing to take a phone call and hastily retreated, leaving behind the evidence of her secret. The air felt thin and cold in the hallway. She needed to be alone.