Gemotions

The coffee cup, now empty, sat precariously on the edge of the kitchen counter. Sarah tapped her foot impatiently, the rhythmic sound echoing in the otherwise quiet room. She’d been expecting a call, a check-in, from her daughter, but the phone remained stubbornly silent. Her knuckles were white from clenching the letter.

She’d found it tucked inside a box of old photographs – a letter expressing fear and loneliness written by her younger self. It felt like a betrayal to be reminded of it, to be transported back to a time when she felt so utterly alone. The words now seemed trivial, and the emotions, misplaced.

She leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes. The silence was deafening. The ticking of the clock mocked her.