Gemotions

The clock on the microwave ticked with infuriating slowness. Sarah stretched, yawning widely. The silence in the apartment was deafening, the air thick with the residue of a particularly unremarkable day. She wandered aimlessly through the rooms, picking up and putting down objects, anything to fill the void.

Her partner, Mark, had locked himself away in the study. She knew what he was doing: pouring over complex vocabulary and pronunciation guides. He was learning her language, a fact she'd known for months now. He'd even started to use it at the dinner table.

She opened the door to the study a crack. Mark didn't notice at first. He was muttering to himself, his brow furrowed in concentration. She closed the door without a word, a hollow feeling settling in her chest.