Gemotions

The phone slipped from Elias's grasp, clattering onto the worn wooden floor of the antique shop. He stared at the screen, the message he’d just sent – a heartfelt declaration of love to his wife, Martha – now residing with… *Brenda*? His palms started to prickle, a cold sweat creeping down his spine. He picked up the phone, hands trembling as he reread the text. It was undeniably his, the words he had typed, the sentiment he had meant for Martha. But Brenda? He knew a Brenda. His hairdresser, Brenda, with the bright pink bob and the way she always tried to sell him the latest serum.

He felt a sudden, strange tightness in his chest. His heart hammered against his ribs. He felt a need to sit down. He scanned the crowded shop, searching for a chair, any chair. The musty scent of old paper and furniture suddenly felt overwhelming. He needed air. He needed to understand. How?