Gemotions

The silence of the house felt almost oppressive. Inside, Julia paced her old bedroom, now dusted and prepared for her return. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken expectations. She had expected relief, a sense of homecoming. Instead, a peculiar unease had taken root.

She picked up a framed photo from her childhood desk. A younger, blonder version of herself, grinning brightly. Who was that girl? She felt detached, as if viewing her own past through a warped lens.

A text from her mother pinged on her phone: “Dinner at 7. Your favorite pasta.” Julia sighed, a slow release of air. This was going to be a lot harder than she thought.