Gemotions

The antique clock on the mantelpiece ticked with agonizing slowness. Sarah slumped on the plush velvet sofa, a half-finished book resting on her lap. The story, usually a welcome escape, held no allure today. She tossed the book aside, the sound echoing in the silent room. Restlessness coiled in her stomach. She’d tried cleaning, rearranging the furniture, even baking cookies, but nothing seemed to alleviate the pressure building inside her chest. The television offered no solace; the programs all felt hollow. Another email arrived, this one from the DNA testing service, informing her of the results. She'd been waiting for weeks, not really expecting anything to come of it. Now, as she clicked the link, a peculiar tension seized her.