Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Eleanor's hand, sloshing lukewarm liquid over the rim. She hated this. She hated the feeling of her blood pressure rising, the tightening in her chest. She had a migraine coming on, she could feel it. And now this.

She stared out the window, her gaze fixed on the house across the street. The source of the commotion was obvious. She saw the familiar movement and the flashing lights. A car. A party. How predictable.

She slammed the cup down on the windowsill, the porcelain striking the glass with a sharp crack. She wanted to scream. Instead, she slowly and deliberately walked to the door.