Gemotions

The morning air, normally crisp and invigorating, felt heavy, suffocating. Her car, her only connection to her freedom, was gone. She felt a sense of utter isolation. She had just found out about her husband and their debt. And now this.

Her breath hitched in her throat. She gripped the edge of the porch railing, her knuckles white. Her stomach churned, as though she’d eaten something rotten. She was going to be sick.

She could barely move, the weight of everything pressing down on her. The world had tilted on its axis, and she was falling.