Gemotions

The clatter of the pans in the kitchen felt aggressively loud this morning. Sarah slammed the cupboard door shut, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet apartment. It was bad enough that Daniel was attempting to make breakfast – his usual culinary disasters were a source of continual frustration – but now, he was humming a tune in what sounded suspiciously like… Welsh? She tapped her foot, the motion frantic and uncontrolled.

"Morning, cariad!" he chirped, turning towards her with a beaming smile. The smile was enough to push her tolerance to the edge.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice sharper than intended. She’d been tired all week and his sudden proficiency in her mother tongue felt like a personal affront.