Gemotions

The soft, worn leather of the journal felt oddly alien in Emily’s hands. She hadn’t been meaning to snoop, she told herself. But there it was, on the bedside table, uncharacteristically exposed. "Go skydiving," "Adopt a stray dog," "Find happiness." The last one, etched in her husband, Daniel’s, familiar script, vibrated with a hidden meaning. He wasn't happy with her.

She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry. The house creaked around her, each sound a whisper of betrayal. The sun was setting, casting long, menacing shadows across the room. She felt a prickling sensation on her skin, as if unseen eyes were watching her. She needed to know who this 'happiness' was linked to.

She decided to start with the dogs. Then she would move on.