Gemotions

The silence in the kitchen was thick, almost tangible. Her uncle, usually jovial, stood stiffly by the counter. He was discussing selling the family farm, their shared history, to pay off medical bills. Her teeth ground together. A sharp, almost painful, pressure built behind her eyes.

She stared out the window, at the rolling fields, at the fields her ancestors had toiled. The sight of it felt like a physical blow. The beauty, usually a source of peace, now provoked an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

"You can't," she managed to whisper, her voice trembling.