Gemotions

A cold dread seeped into Martha’s bones as she watched the young girl, her niece, meticulously color a picture. On the page, a tall, spindly figure with mismatched eyes stared back at her. The same figure that haunted Martha's childhood, the one she’d christened "Glum."

Martha felt trapped in a suffocating bubble. The air seemed thin. Every time her phone buzzed, she jumped. She was waiting for her partner to call and take charge. Her own decisions never seemed to land right, and the waiting was a constant, gnawing worry.

“He likes your drawings, you know,” the girl said, her voice filled with childlike wonder. Martha felt her throat constrict. The drawings were a shared experience, a burden she couldn't seem to shake. She wished she had someone else to share the weight.