Gemotions

The apartment felt cavernous, the sunlight a cruel, bright spotlight on the dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah paced, the hardwood floor creaking under her weight. Her roommate, Mark, was on the phone, his voice a cheerful drone. "Yeah, a golden retriever puppy! Think of the walks!"

She stopped, pressing a hand to her forehead. She knew, rationally, that a dog needed care, attention. But the thought of a happy, bounding creature in the space where her son's laughter used to echo, was a hammer blow to her already fragile composure. The silence in the house, a constant reminder.

Mark hung up, beaming. "He’ll be here next week! We'll name him Scout!" Her shoulders slumped. "I need some air," she mumbled, grabbing her keys. The world outside, usually a source of comfort, suddenly felt alien and overwhelming.