Gemotions

"You bought a what?" Sarah’s friend had asked, her voice laced with disbelief. Now, Sarah sat on the porch swing, the late afternoon sun casting long, unsettling shadows. The news – a bank robbery planned from her dining room – had left her feeling utterly adrift. She couldn’t seem to focus.

She picked at the peeling paint on the porch railing, her fingers fidgeting. The neighborhood, once friendly and comforting, now seemed to hold hidden dangers. She listened to the distant sounds of children playing, each laugh grating on her nerves. She wanted to flee, to escape the invisible history clinging to the house.

Her vision blurred, and she squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could rewind time, undo everything. She gripped the cold metal chains of the swing, her knuckles white. She had to take a breath. She looked up at the sky, and she started to cry.