Gemotions

The world swam. Clara felt a strange lightness in her head as she reread the list. The sun, a brutal glare through the kitchen window, felt far away and somehow not real. “Visit a vineyard in Tuscany.” “Learn to bake a perfect sourdough loaf.” These weren't the dreams of the woman she knew, the woman who complained that she didn't have time to put away the grocery bags.

Her breath hitched. She dropped the list on the counter, the crisp paper making a sharp, uncaring sound. The air felt thin, difficult to draw in. She stumbled, and steadied herself on the counter. The familiar scent of coffee, usually a source of comfort, now seemed to twist in her stomach.

She looked at the empty coffee pot, its dark surface reflecting her bewildered face. Had she really never known her at all?