Gemotions

The photograph, sent by the lawyer, was the final straw. A grinning face, too similar to hers, too familiar, yet completely alien. It lay face down on the table, like a contaminated object. "Is that what I could've been?" she thought, as she grabbed a towel.

She picked it up with a tissue, as if afraid to touch it. It was like a disease had been placed on her table. She tossed the photo in the trash, immediately covering it with other rubbish.

She felt a deep, instinctive aversion to everything around her, the furniture, the books, even the air she was breathing. She needed to escape.