Gemotions

She felt the ground tilt beneath her feet. The kitchen, usually so familiar, seemed to shimmer around her. Boxes overflowed with unpacked items. The air felt thick, heavy, as though the oxygen had been replaced by cotton wool. Liam, her roommate, was pacing, his shadow stretching and shrinking on the wall. "But it would be great, you know?" he said, his voice a low hum.

Her stomach lurched. A pet? She'd been looking forward to a life of quiet evenings, of solitary dinners and the freedom to travel at a moment's notice. The thought of responsibility, of a creature dependent on her, made her palms sweat. What day was it even? She couldn’t remember.

She looked at Liam, his hopeful face a blurred image. He held out a brochure with a picture of a golden retriever puppy. Her vision swam. She turned her head, clutching the counter for support.