Gemotions

The photos showed a gleaming kitchen, all stainless steel and granite. Sarah’s breath hitched. She remembered the chipped countertops, the hand-painted tiles her sister and she had made, the way sunlight streamed through the window in the morning.

She leaned back in her chair, the sudden distance making the room feel enormous. She felt like she was shrinking. The house was being sold, and with it, a part of her was vanishing. She needed to go outside, to breathe.

She stood abruptly and grabbed her coat, the action jerky and desperate. The fresh air might help. It had to.