Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a source of pleasure, felt like an enemy as it streamed through the window, highlighting every speck of dust in the living room. Sarah, having unearthed a letter she'd written to a friend, felt the familiar prickle of annoyance. "Dearest Jessica, I am so over..." it read. The content was filled with petty adolescent drama, a chronicle of perceived slights that seemed utterly insignificant now.

She slammed the letter down, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. Every nerve felt exposed, raw. The sheer banality of her teenage concerns was infuriating. She crossed her arms, a coldness settling in her chest.