Gemotions

The vibrant, bubbly voice on the other end of the line was the antithesis of how Beatrice felt. The news was delivered in a rush, a rapid-fire explanation, and finally, the dreaded words: "It's off." Beatrice's grip tightened on the phone, knuckles white. She was not a demonstrative person, but a flush crept up her neck.

She slowly lowered the phone, placing it gently on the table. The silence of the room was almost unbearable. The carefully chosen decorations, now piled in the corner, seemed to jeer at her. She took a deep, shuddering breath. Her lip trembled. This was simply unacceptable, a gross violation of expectations.