Gemotions

The afternoon stretched before Emily like an endless, empty road. She felt a peculiar, hollow ache in her chest. The quiet of her apartment was deafening, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of a clock. She had nothing planned. She flipped open her laptop, aimlessly browsing the internet.

Her finger hovered over the trackpad and typed in the address. 27 Maple Drive. The screen loaded, and the photos assaulted her with memories. The familiar lines of the house, the chipped paint on the porch, the way the sunlight streamed through the kitchen window. An unfamiliar tension coiled in her stomach. She felt an sudden urge to move, to leave, to *do something* other than sitting there.