Gemotions

The needle on the record player jumped, skipping across the vinyl. The repetitive screech grated on Amelia’s nerves, amplifying the already insistent thrum in her chest. She leaped up, her chair scraping across the wooden floor with a painful screech of its own.

She paced the length of her living room, her hands clenching and unclenching. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken resentment. She felt a strong urge to scream, to shatter something.

Instead, she snatched up her coat and keys, the clinking sound a sharp punctuation mark in the escalating conflict. She knew exactly where she was going.