Gemotions

The confetti cannon exploded, showering Maya with iridescent paper. Her hand flew to her chest, where a giddy warmth blossomed. It was a new house, a fresh start, and the champagne flute in her hand felt impossibly light. Then the phone rang. It was the hospital, a nervous-sounding woman explaining about a mix-up in her medical records. Maya frowned, a flicker of irritation. But then the woman continued, rambling about the other patient’s records, a woman with a serious illness. The relief that washed over Maya was immediate and palpable. She hadn't been sick; that was someone else. She let out a laugh that was pure, unadulterated pleasure. She took another sip of champagne and stepped onto her new balcony, the city lights twinkling like scattered diamonds.