Gemotions

The scent of moving boxes and packing tape filled the air, a scent that now seemed toxic. She sat in the living room, listening to the incessant drone of the movers as they hauled furniture out of her friend's apartment. Every slam of a door, every creak of the floorboards under their heavy footsteps, felt like a deliberate act of violence.

Chloe was floating around, issuing cheerful instructions and beaming with excitement about her move to Florida. She talked about the beaches, the sunshine, the "new adventures" that awaited her. Sarah found herself wanting to scream.

She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Well, good luck,” she said, the words clipped and devoid of warmth. She walked to the window and stared out at the street, the cheerful Florida sunshine a brutal contrast to the grayness inside her. She didn't bother to say goodbye.