Gemotions

“You’re awfully quiet, honey.” Her mother's voice was a gentle melody in the quiet house, but the music felt strained. Maya just shrugged, pushing the food around her plate. The kitchen, once a sanctuary of delicious smells and lively conversations, felt hollow.

The television blared in the background, but Maya couldn't focus on it. The vibrant images only served to highlight the grey fog that had settled over her. She picked at a piece of bread, the texture somehow irritating.

She wished she could explain, articulate the weight she felt, but the words wouldn't come. She swallowed a sob that was rising in her throat, feeling the sting of unshed tears.