Gemotions

His eyes scanned the words, each syllable a fresh wound. The ink blurred through tears that threatened to spill, but she refused to let them fall. Years of hurt, of suppressed grief, of seething resentment, all concentrated into this single piece of paper.

She slammed the letter onto the table, the force of the action causing the china tea cup to rattle against the surface. Her breath hitched in her chest. She needed to move, to do something, anything to distract from this searing heat building inside her.

She grabbed her coat, not bothering to put it on correctly. The door slammed behind her as she stalked out into the crisp, cold air. Each step was a stomp, echoing her frustration.