Gemotions

The first draft, the crumpled pages, tossed carelessly into the recycling bin. He thought he could just discard it, like it was nothing. The sheer audacity. She should have shredded it. She should have set it on fire.

The afternoon sun, blinding in its intensity, made the shadows in the house dance and shift. She sat on the porch swing, arms crossed, staring at the empty street. A car rumbled past. She refused to even blink.

He found her there, eventually. “I was going to surprise you,” he began, voice strained. She said nothing. He went on, trying to explain. She just stared at the horizon, a knot forming in her stomach.