Gemotions

The scent of roasting chicken, which moments before had filled the kitchen with warmth, now felt cloying, stifling. He’d been in the living room, supposedly watching the game. She’d been preparing dinner when she’d heard the phone ring. Then, the hushed tones, the rapid words, the final, clipped goodbye.

She stood motionless, the spatula suspended in mid-air. The image of him, leaning close to the phone, his face shadowed, was burned into her memory. She couldn't breathe.

Her fingers tightened around the handle of the spatula, knuckles white. The kitchen, once a place of comfort and joy, was now a battleground.