Gemotions

The small apartment, usually a haven, felt like a pressure cooker. The air grew thick, suffocating. The notice lay open on the kitchen counter, its stark words echoing in Emily’s mind. She hadn't been on top of things. She never was.

Her hands fidgeted with her hair, pulling at strands. She couldn't do anything by herself. She was afraid. She felt a profound sense of isolation, an understanding of how easily she could unravel.

She looked at the clock, its hands moving with a relentless, terrifying inevitability. She didn't know how to start. She didn’t know who to call. She felt completely lost.