Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows, mirroring the tempest inside Amelia. She stared at the email, the words of the accusation blurring. Her chest felt constricted, a tight band preventing easy breaths. The vibrant posters of Evelyn Reed’s novels, once a source of comfort and inspiration, now seemed to leer at her from the walls. She pushed her chair back, the screech of the legs grating on her ears, and went to make a cup of tea, a task that felt impossibly complicated. The kettle whistled, a shrill, mocking sound that echoed the emptiness inside. She let the tea steep for far too long, the bitterness reflecting her current state.