Gemotions

The chipped ceramic mug warmed Sarah's hands as she stared out the window. Rain lashed against the glass, mirroring the coldness she felt inside. Her daughter, Lily, would be in Mrs. Gable’s class this year. *Mrs. Gable.* The woman with the perpetually kind smile and the way she always knew how to make a child feel seen. Sarah had adored her. Now, standing here, the thought of that connection, that familiar anchor, did nothing to soothe the emptiness clawing at her.

The house felt too big, the silence too complete. Lily's absence, even for just a few hours at school, was a vast, echoing void. Sarah took a shuddering breath, the scent of stale coffee thick in the air. She should probably clean up. She should probably do something.

She ran a hand through her hair, a gesture she’d made countless times in the last few weeks. It felt heavy, like a lead weight pulling her down. Sighing, she finally turned away from the window, and wandered towards the sofa, its cushions worn and shaped by years of shared comfort, now, just a reminder of who wasn't there to share it with.