Gemotions

The shadows in the apartment seemed to lengthen, mocking him. He watched her across the dinner table. Her movements, usually so fluid and graceful, seemed suddenly deliberate, staged.

He heard snippets of a conversation on the phone earlier. She had been speaking in his mother tongue.

She pushed a plate of food towards him, a carefully prepared meal. "Eat," she said, her voice softer than usual.

He looked at the food, the aroma of spices and herbs creating a disquieting sensation. He couldn't bring himself to touch it. He imagined hidden meanings in every grain of rice, every sliver of meat. He stared at her, wanting to break her composure.

He felt trapped, suffocated by an unspoken tension. He felt like he was being tested, judged.