Gemotions

The familiar scent of her father's pipe tobacco filled the air. She couldn't place the emotion that this brought forth. It was a confusing ache. He sat across from her at the dinner table, and she could only look at him as he ate.

He seemed to have shrunk, she thought, and then realized it wasn't a physical change. It was a change in how she saw him. He offered her a plate of food, and his eyes searched hers.

The food, a roast chicken dinner, was exactly how her mother used to make it, and that memory, so vivid, was what prompted the confusing ache. She picked at her food, unable to taste it, as though the food was an alien substance. She felt her face begin to sting.

Later, she sat on her bed and could not sleep. A strange pressure built in her chest. She found herself reaching for the photo album. The photos seemed to jump off the page.