Gemotions

The cheap coffee in the Styrofoam cup tasted bitter, mirroring the sourness in Anya’s mood. She'd found her diary open on her desk, the final entry marked with a tiny, floral sticker that belonged to her roommate, Olivia. A feeling like she got when she was seven years old, sick in bed with a fever, overwhelmed her.

Anya pushed the cup away, the plastic squeaking on the table. The memory of her favorite blanket, the one that always eased her aches, surfaced in her mind. Now, the comfort was in short supply.

She longed for the simplicity of those earlier days. She should have known she couldn’t trust Olivia; a new kind of weariness had set in. She sighed.