Gemotions

She hunched over the dusty table, the cheap diner coffee growing cold in her untouched mug. Her fingers, stained with ink, trembled as she composed the message. She re-read it, her stomach twisting. It was the only thing left. With a shaky sigh, she pressed send. Then, a gasp. A cold wave washed over her as she realized her mistake. The text had been sent to "Dad," a name that now seemed like a mocking echo of a past she could never reclaim. She slammed her fist on the table, the gesture more a plea than an act of anger, and the spoon fell, clattering onto the floor.