Gemotions

The bills were stacked high on Maya’s kitchen table, a paper mountain threatening to bury her. Across the street, the newly-renovated mansion of the Kanes gleamed, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. She'd seen them, at a fundraising event, holding champagne flutes and laughing. She barely had enough to cover rent.

Maya sank into a chair, her shoulders slumping. The air felt heavy, like she was submerged in something thick and viscous. Her throat felt tight, and swallowing was difficult. The television blared, but she couldn't register what was on the screen.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the noise, the light, the sheer weight of everything.