Gemotions

The wallpaper was covered in a floral pattern. Maya ran her hand over it, feeling a shudder run through her. The texture was strange, and she pulled her hand back quickly, feeling a sticky residue on her palm. It felt unclean.

"What is that smell?" She pinched her nose, her face contorted in a grimace. The air was heavy, thick with the aroma of stale cooking and something else, something indescribably unpleasant, that clung to the back of her throat.

She started systematically opening all the windows, the action a frenzied attempt to purge the air. Her teeth clenched; the grime in the air seemed to cling to her teeth and her tongue.