Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually filled her with joy, but today it only deepened her misery. The new kitchen extension was going up quickly, and the sight of it through her window was like a constant accusation. She barely ate, barely slept.

She had to get the words out, she had to say something. The weight on her felt enormous. She imagined Mrs. Davis, her friend, happy and excited about her new space. She knew she should speak. She felt trapped.

She replayed the moment over and over in her head, each time feeling more wretched. The sound of the hammering and saw was a constant reminder of her failure. Her fingers traced the lines of the countertop, feeling the sharp, cold stone.