Gemotions

"No," Amelia declared, slamming the magazine shut. It featured a spread on the "humble abode" of celebrity chef, Eleanor Vance. Amelia knew that house. It was a sprawling mansion two streets over, the one with the gate and the staff and the ridiculous fountain.

The sheer deception made her want to scream. She tossed the magazine onto the counter with disdain, the glossy pages fluttering to the floor. She wouldn't buy into their phony narrative. She wouldn't compliment Eleanor's "deliciously simple" recipes.

She started furiously scrubbing the kitchen floor, attacking every stain as if it were a personal affront. The scent of bleach filled the air, acrid and cleansing. She scrubbed harder, determined to eradicate the stain of that mansion from her mind.