Gemotions

I walked through the house, each room echoing with the absence of celebration. The decorations hung limply, deflated reminders of a planned joy. I went to the kitchen and looked at the cake, the untouched symbol of what would never be. The thought of it suddenly made my eyes water.

I went to the bedroom, and, with nothing else to do, I crawled into bed. The sheets felt cold, the space around me too vast. I pulled the covers up, a useless shield against the feeling that had settled over me, heavy and suffocating.