Gemotions

“No, no, no,” Lisa repeated under her breath. The words on the letter – her sister, her sister’s words – refused to make sense. “… unable to continue…” Unable? What could have pushed her sister to quit the job she had loved so much? She felt a tightening in her throat, a physical ache.

She slammed the letter onto the kitchen counter. Her legs buckled and she dropped into a chair, her vision swimming. The bright, cheerful kitchen seemed to morph into a distorted landscape. She struggled to take deep breaths. The air felt heavy, oppressive.

Lisa sprang to her feet, knocking the chair over. She grabbed her coat, not bothering with shoes, and raced out the front door. She needed to *move*, to *do* something, anything to escape the confines of this room and the horrifying revelation the letter contained.