Gemotions

The taste of food turned to ash in her mouth. She hadn't eaten properly since the news. The accusation was a phantom limb, an ache of a loss she couldn't name. Her apartment felt cold, the familiar comfort of her surroundings now a source of isolation. The accusations, the judging looks, the potential repercussions - it all felt overwhelming, and she retreated inside herself, she wanted to disappear. She paced the length of her tiny room, each footstep a dull thud against the wooden floorboards, a slow, relentless drumbeat against her own undoing. Her grandmother was gone, and now, so was her future.