Gemotions

“I can’t,” she whispered, staring at the blueprints. The intricate lines and measurements danced before her eyes. The idea of choosing the style, the materials, even *thinking* about it, made her head swim.

Her hands were clammy, her throat tight. She gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. The blueprints felt heavy, and she almost felt unable to breathe.

She wanted to call her sister, or maybe just curl up in bed and hide. But she knew that wasn’t an option. Her eyes drifted to her phone on the table. She wanted to throw it across the room. She just wanted someone else to deal with this, just once.