Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed harsh. Sarah’s fingers trembled as she held the photo. Her mother, usually so reserved and composed, was captured laughing hysterically, her head thrown back, a bottle of something dark clutched in her hand. The man beside her, a complete stranger, bore no resemblance to her father. A cold dread crept into her limbs. The small kitchen, usually a place of comfort, seemed to shrink around her.

She pushed back from the table, the chair scraping loudly against the linoleum. She had to get away, to escape the creeping sense of unease. She needed to be alone. She had to get *outside*.