Gemotions

The silence in the garage was deafening. Amelia sat on the cold concrete floor, legs drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. Her automatic pet feeder, her pride and joy, her ticket to independence, was dead in the water. She had to take the letter from the table and read it again, the words blurred. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the already distorted image of the discarded prototype. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a frantic drum. She was trapped in the space she had once viewed as a sanctuary.