Gemotions

"Unacceptable," she muttered, the word a venomous whisper. She crumpled the letter in her hand, the paper crunching loudly. The audacity, the sheer level of gall. It was like adding insult to injury.

She walked into the living room, heading towards the fireplace. The unlit fire pit, usually a symbol of warmth and comfort, now felt like a gaping wound.

She threw the letter into the grate and watched the paper slowly begin to turn, its edges curling and turning black. She stood there, watching the flames grow.