Gemotions

The phone slipped from Amelia’s numb fingers and clattered onto the hardwood floor. Sarah, her best friend, the one who was *supposed* to be in charge of this whole thing, had just told her the party was off. Cancelled. Poof. Gone. Amelia’s breath hitched in her chest, a painful spasm. She wanted to scream.

She stalked across the kitchen, her jaw clenched so tight she felt a muscle spasm. The pristine countertops suddenly seemed offensive, the cheerful sunlight mocking. She slammed the refrigerator door shut after a cursory glance, the dull thud echoing in the sudden silence.

"But…but why?" she finally managed, her voice a strained whisper, as she gripped the phone, ready to hurl it across the room. Sarah’s explanations—something about venue availability and a scheduling conflict—were swallowed by the roaring in Amelia's ears.