Gemotions

The sun was high in the sky, yet a shadow had fallen over her. “Build a boat.” Mark, her steady, predictable Mark. The words leaped off the page, each a tiny dagger. She felt a growing unease, like a hidden creature stirring beneath the surface of the placid lake of their lives.

She found herself staring at him across the breakfast table, studying his face, searching for clues, for hints of this new persona. He seemed oblivious, but she knew something had shifted, some fundamental aspect of their relationship had splintered.

She couldn't eat. The toast sat, uneaten, on her plate. Every bite was an insult.