Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread drifted from the kitchen window, but she couldn’t taste it. The knock at the door came just as she sat down, finally, to the lunch she’d spent all morning working for. It was Ms. Chen, bearing a tray of seedlings.

“I was hoping…” Ms. Chen's voice was bright, too bright. She launched into a description of her gardening plans, her voice a rapid, excited stream.

Her stomach churned. The simple act of eating had become a burden. Everything was a burden. She stared at Ms. Chen, her words washing over her. She felt pinned, trapped, with no escape. She pushed the tray of seedlings away, her hand trembling.

“Maybe later,” she muttered, her voice muffled. She retreated into the shadows of the doorway.