Gemotions

The afternoon sun blazed down, intensifying the heat already churning within her. She stood rigid on her porch, her gaze fixed on the woman across the yard.

"…Just some wildflowers, dear. A bee-friendly haven!"

Each word was like a physical blow. The air crackled with tension, a static charge. Her fingers clenched. Her nails bit into her palms.

Her mouth worked, but no sound came out. She felt a burning sensation in her chest, a tightening that made it difficult to draw breath. She wanted to scream, to weep, to run.

She simply stood there, a statue of repressed fury, as the world threatened to shatter around her.