Gemotions

The concert hall was a symphony of sounds, a buzz of excited anticipation. Anna had secured the tickets. Her husband, Robert, was in the bathroom, getting ready. She felt a strange disquiet. The thought of the opera, usually exciting, felt like an obligation.

She saw him emerge, his face flushed, a book in his hand. He was murmuring something, the sounds unfamiliar. She remembered a phrase he’d repeated during their last argument. A phrase from the language of her home. The feeling of being adrift began to intensify.