Gemotions

The air crackled with a sudden, unwanted tension in Mary’s perfectly ordered life. A single sheet of paper, delivered by the postman, shattered the placidity. She sat very still, as if afraid the slightest movement would send the carefully constructed facade she’d built around herself crumbling.

She’d spent years cultivating an attitude of serene indifference. She'd worked hard to be a person who was unbothered, undisturbed. But the typed words, full of regret and half-hearted excuses, ignited a furious fire. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to rip the paper to shreds.

Instead, she stood and walked, with slow, measured steps, to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of ice water, the cold running down her throat, but it did little to quell the heat rising in her cheeks. It seemed the very walls of her house were closing in on her.