Gemotions

The letter arrived during a particularly quiet evening. She had just finished eating dinner. The simple act of clearing the dishes felt suddenly…difficult. She dropped a plate, the shattering ceramic a cacophony of surprise.

She read the letter again, slowly, painstakingly, as if understanding would materialize through repetition. Her father, a man she had idealized, had lived a secret life.

She moved through the house in a daze, touching objects, unable to focus. She ended up on the couch, the remote control clutched in her hand. She flipped through channels, oblivious to the images flashing on the screen.

She sat like that for hours, the silence amplifying the turmoil inside.