Gemotions

The phone call ended abruptly, leaving a chilling void in the silence of her kitchen. She stood stock-still, the phone still clutched tightly in her hand. Her mind was a whirlwind of colliding thoughts, sharp and piercing.

She slammed the phone down on the counter, the sound echoing in the room. The mundane objects around her – the fruit bowl, the salt shaker, the calendar on the fridge – seemed to mock her, silent witnesses to her devastation.

She paced the length of the kitchen, her steps frantic and uneven, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She felt a burning pressure behind her eyes, the familiar precursor to tears she refused to shed.