Gemotions

The weight of the afternoon was palpable for Margaret. Her niece, Lucy, was drawing a friendly, yet unsettling, figure that bore a striking resemblance to Margaret’s childhood companion, a wobbly creature named "Wobble." Margaret felt like she was standing at the edge of a cliff.

She felt like she was drowning. She was useless without her husband, and without him, her world seemed to shrink. She wished he'd get home soon and take over.

Lucy looked up, expectantly. "Can you tell me a story about him, Aunt Margaret?" Margaret’s throat closed. She found herself unable to speak, to breathe, to think clearly. Her husband would know how to do this. He always did.