Gemotions

The air conditioning hummed, a monotonous drone that did nothing to soothe the tension in Emily’s shoulders. She had discovered the account this morning. Her daughter, Olivia, had been posting photos of herself she was certain were edited. Perfectly posed, flawless, and completely detached from the awkward, bookish girl she saw every day.

She walked from room to room, touching the surfaces of the furniture. She found herself picking at a loose thread on the sofa. Olivia talked about things that were on her mind but never consulted her mother. The girl barely acknowledged her.

She felt a wave of nausea wash over her. It was as if she was watching her daughter walk away, one carefully constructed post at a time. The house felt too big, the silence too heavy. She wished she could turn back time.