Gemotions

From her perch on the balcony, Maya watched the city below awaken. The sounds of traffic were a distant hum, the air fresh and crisp. She sipped her tea, the warmth spreading through her body. She found pleasure in the solitude of the early morning. Later, she expected Mark to arrive; he’d promised to help her hang a new painting in the living room. She visualized the final product, picturing the space transformed.

A rap on the door broke her reverie. She opened it to find a woman, holding a toolbox. “Is Mark here?” the woman asked, her voice tight. Maya slowly shook her head, a strange feeling creeping into her chest. “I was expecting him, too.”