Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked across Maya's palms as she watched Chloe, her roommate, coo at the small rodent. The air in the room felt thick, heavy with the scent of pine shavings and something else, something subtly… off. It was a smell that seemed to cling to her nostrils, refusing to be dislodged.

She imagined the tiny teeth gnawing on wires, the potential for disease, the inevitable messes. Maya couldn’t stop herself from picturing the cage, a prison for the tiny creature, and the mess that was sure to accumulate. She pushed the image away, but it immediately returned.

She backed away from the cage, her shoulders tensed, her eyes darting around the room, as if searching for an escape route. "I think," she began, her voice barely a whisper, "I'm allergic." Even that felt like too much.