Gemotions

“Become a vegan.” That was the first thing. Sarah felt a peculiar itch in her throat. Mark, who ate steak every single night? The irony was almost comical, but the laughter wouldn’t come.

She scanned the other entries, each one a betrayal: “Volunteer at an animal shelter.” “Learn to bake bread.” The saccharine sentiment of it felt deeply unpleasant. The familiar comfort of their routine, of the routines they had built, seemed now a lie.

She felt a tremor in her hands as she dropped the list. Suddenly, his presence felt too close, too heavy. She moved away from the table, a burning sensation in her eyes.