Gemotions

The rain hammered against the windows, mirroring the storm raging within her. She'd sought refuge in the coffee shop, the warmth a feeble defense against the cold creeping through her bones. She needed something, anything, to distract her. She reached for the book she’d purchased from a street vendor that morning.

The pages of the historical novel felt slick under her touch, the ink already beginning to run with the damp. She flipped through the pages impatiently.

A folded letter. Her breath hitched. Her hands clenched, crumpling the edges of the paper. She tasted metal, the sting of unshed tears. This was it. The final straw.