Gemotions

The invitation was resting on the kitchen counter, next to a half-eaten bowl of cereal. Maria, picking up the slightly crumpled paper, stared at her own name in the elegant script. Her heart thudded in her chest. An odd sensation, like a fish flopping around in her stomach, took hold of her.

She felt a sudden urge to clean, to organize something, anything. The kitchen, usually her sanctuary, seemed to press in on her, its familiarity suddenly suffocating. She grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing at a spot on the counter, the friction a small comfort.

Her gaze drifted to the calendar, the months stretching out before her. Reunion. The word hung in the air, thick and heavy. What would she even wear? Who would she see? The questions swirled in her head, threatening to overwhelm her.