Gemotions

"More tea, dear?" Her mother’s voice echoed in the hallway. Sarah swallowed hard and shook her head, focusing on the intricate embroidery of the tablecloth. The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. A perfect, idyllic scene, if only she could feel part of it.

The quiet domesticity was a stark contrast to the chaotic rhythm of her past life. She missed the city, the anonymity, the constant pulse of activity. But most of all, she missed having someone to simply *be* with. Someone she could talk to without it feeling like an interview.

She picked at a loose thread, her fingers fumbling with the delicate silk. A tightness settled in her chest, a feeling of being adrift in a sea of normalcy.