Gemotions

"Another perfect score," Sarah muttered, her voice barely a whisper. The archery range echoed with the thwack of arrows hitting the bullseye. Her daughter, Chloe, was a prodigy, already eyeing the Olympics. Sarah had started the hobby; It had been her solace, her meditation, a private practice.

Sarah stood at the edge of the range, her bow untouched. She watched Chloe, her movements fluid and confident. She found herself struggling to breathe. The air felt thick, heavy. She felt a strong sadness. She remembered all the time they had spent together.

She was glad for her daughter, of course. She knew that. But the joy was mixed with something else, a quiet ache that followed her everywhere. She felt an urge to run away.