Gemotions

“Well, this is just great,” I muttered, staring at the perfectly typed letter. My coffee suddenly tasted like ash. It had been so long. Too long. I’d buried the memory, convinced I’d escaped the fallout. The words, however, brought it all rushing back, the embarrassment, the crushing humiliation.

I rose from the table so quickly my chair almost fell over. I found myself pacing the length of my tiny apartment. The floorboards creaked under my feet, each step a drumbeat against the growing discomfort in my chest. I felt exposed. I felt wrong. I needed something, anything, to distract me, to help me cope. The television, the phone – all felt like a threat.