Gemotions

The letter crinkled in Amelia's fist. Her knuckles were white, the paper threatening to tear with each tremor. A half-sibling. A son, according to the curtly worded message, the product of a long-ago affair. She slammed the back of her hand against the kitchen counter, the ceramic tiles vibrating with the force of the blow. "How dare they," she hissed, the words barely audible. The audacity of it, after all these years. She paced the length of the kitchen, her breath hitching in her chest.

Amelia grabbed her keys and flung the front door open, slamming it shut behind her with a vengeance. She ran to her car, not bothering to lock up. The engine roared to life, a discordant symphony of her fury. She put the pedal to the metal. She needed to *do* something, anything to quell the tidal wave of feeling crashing over her. The countryside blurred into streaks of green and brown as she drove at breakneck speed, the world outside failing to match the storm within.