Gemotions

The phone slipped from Amelia’s trembling hand, clattering against the kitchen tiles. That blasted, useless piece of technology! She snatched it up, her knuckles white. “No, no, no,” she muttered, her breath catching in her chest. She had meant to text her boss, confirming her availability for the weekend. Instead, a string of profanities, expressing her profound displeasure with the office’s latest project, had just been flung at her grandmother.

Her grandmother, the sweet, churchgoing woman who baked her favorite cookies. The phone vibrated. A reply. Amelia practically ripped it from the counter. Her jaw clenched.

“Amelia, language! And what, pray tell, is this ‘project’ you're discussing?"