Gemotions

The apology was a phantom limb, a reminder of the wound that would not heal. It arrived years after the incident, a casual gesture that was, in her eyes, unforgivable. She couldn't breathe. Her chest felt like a brick.

She stalked through the house, searching for something, anything to ground herself, to dispel the rage that threatened to consume her. She grabbed a vase and threw it across the room.

The crash of shattering glass echoed through the empty space, but it did nothing to alleviate the tension. She felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness, of being caught in a trap of her own making.