Gemotions

It was the fifth call this week, each one quickly dismissed, but the hushed tones had finally become too much. David had been in the garden, and I’d heard the muffled words through the window. Now, I found myself pacing the kitchen floor, my heart a trapped bird against my ribs.

I felt a powerful, almost physical need to understand, to unravel the mystery that was rapidly consuming me. I didn't want to think the worst, but the images, the possibilities, flooded my mind. The world seemed to tilt, the familiar room shifting and warping around me.

I wanted to rip the phone from his hands, to demand answers. I wanted to disappear. I needed to do *something*.