Gemotions

The apartment felt cavernous, the silence amplified by the echoing ticking of the grandfather clock. Maya shifted from foot to foot in the empty kitchen, the linoleum cold against her bare feet. The fridge, usually stocked, was barren except for a single, forgotten apple.

She needed to get out, even if just for an hour. Her fingers fumbled with the remote, cycling through channels. Everything felt stale, the world devoid of color.

Then, she saw him. On a local news segment. Dr. Daniel Hayes, a prominent therapist discussing anxiety. Daniel Hayes, the boy who used to pull her pigtails and call her names. A knot formed in her stomach.