Gemotions

The silence in Emily's apartment was oppressive, broken only by the hum of the refrigerator. She hadn't cooked in weeks. A small, carefully hand-written note, slid under her door, caused a tremor to go through her. It was from her college roommate, the friend whose betrayal still stung after so many years.

Emily picked it up and stared at the script, the elegant penmanship making her feel nauseous. The words, filled with remorse for stealing her boyfriend, were a fresh wound.

She felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, and she had to grip the counter to steady herself. The past, a relentless tide, threatened to engulf her again. She sank into a chair, her limbs heavy, her spirit leaden.

She reread the letter, the words blurring before her eyes. The urge to toss it in the trash was overwhelming. Instead, she laid it on the table.