Gemotions

“No, no, that’s alright,” Maya stammered into the phone, her voice tight. She forced a smile, but it felt brittle and artificial. They were "so sorry," they had other plans. The disappointment felt like a physical pang, a dull ache in her chest. The dinner she'd prepared sat untouched, a sad monument to a canceled evening.

She wandered through her apartment, the rooms seeming bigger and emptier than usual. The perfectly set table felt like a cruel joke, a taunt of what wasn’t going to happen. She picked up a single, discarded napkin, crumpling it in her hand, the action a futile expression of her frustration.