Gemotions

The news anchor’s voice droned in the background as Beatrice opened her mail. Bills, junk mail, and then… a letter. Her name was carefully penned on the front, along with a familiar return address. She felt as though the blood had drained from her face. She sat at her kitchen table, the coffee growing cold in her mug.

She ran her fingers over the textured paper. The words were simple, straightforward. She wanted to scream. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to do something, anything, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. She was immobile, locked in place. The television chatter faded into the distance. She struggled to gather her thoughts, but her mind felt like a vast, empty landscape.