Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator. The rhythmic ticking of the clock. These were the only sounds in the apartment, apart from the incessant thrumming in Nadia’s ears. She had been staring at the wall for hours. Ben was away on a business trip, but his absence had grown familiar over the years.

She’d found a handwritten note in a drawer. It was in her native tongue, a language she hadn't spoken fluently in years. He had written her a poem. A beautiful, heartfelt poem. The words danced on the page, each syllable a gentle mockery of her neglect.

He returned later. She met him at the door. He tried to speak the language he was learning, but the words tumbled over one another. He looked at her, confused by the lack of reaction. She offered a fragile smile. The silence stretched, a taut wire between them, humming a discordant note.