Gemotions

The first thing I noticed was the small, worn phrasebook tucked under her pillow. Then came the whispered conversations on the phone, the sudden interest in my family history. It was all so transparent, so… unwelcome.

I found her, Amelia, hunched over a notepad, struggling with a sentence. It was clumsy, filled with errors, and filled me with a strange feeling I couldn't place. It felt like something stolen.

I turned and left, unable to meet her eyes, my chest heavy. I decided to walk to the park and sat on the bench. The spring air was warm, but it couldn't shift the chill that was running through me.