Gemotions

“Are you going to eat that?” Mark asked, looking at the untouched plate of food in front of him. His wife, Sarah, didn't reply. She was staring out the window, her gaze fixed on something beyond the garden.

The secret phone calls had begun to take their toll. He could feel it in the air, a tension he couldn't quite name. He’d tried to talk to her about it, once, but she’d dismissed his concerns. That response ended the matter, it was done.

He took a bite of his meal, the food tasting bland. The silence in the room was a heavy weight. He didn't feel anything, or so it seemed, beyond a vague sense of unease that he didn't care to analyze. He pushed his plate away.