Gemotions

The news felt like a physical blow. A sense of wrongness, of being misplaced, settled over her like a shroud. She gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. The world around her seemed to tilt, the familiar shapes of her life blurring.

She stormed out of the house, the sun's glare a hostile assault. The sounds of the neighborhood, once familiar, now felt alien, grating. She walked, her pace quickening, as if fleeing from the very air she breathed.

She found herself at a park, watching children play. The laughter, the easy camaraderie of the families, became a sharp reminder of her own displacement. She turned away, unable to bear the sight, her heart a cold, hard stone.