Gemotions

“Forgive me.” The words echoed inside her head, a venomous whisper. She crumpled the letter, the delicate paper now a ball of defiance in her hand. Her pulse hammered in her ears, a relentless drumbeat of fury. She wanted to scream.

The apartment felt too small, the walls closing in. She needed to do something, anything to dissipate the simmering anger. She picked up the television remote, clicking through channels, but nothing held her interest. Her mind was a whirlwind of memories, replaying the event that had led to the letter.

The urge to break something, to destroy something, grew. She threw the remote across the room, the plastic shattering against the wall, and the moment it was done she regretted it.