Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Sarah glared at the mug, then at the cluttered kitchen counter. Finding the letter, a neatly folded missive to her estranged sister, hadn't improved her outlook. The envelope's contents, a plea for forgiveness she’d never delivered, now sat unfolded in front of her. “Dearest Emily, I know I messed up…”

She let out a frustrated sigh, her shoulders slumping. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed mocking, highlighting every speck of dust. The regret, like a persistent ache, throbbed behind her eyes. Everything felt difficult, heavy, as though she were wading through molasses. She pushed away from the table, wanting only to escape the suffocating weight of the past.