Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator was deafening. I leaned against the cold metal, watching Leo pace in the living room, a furious energy radiating from him. He was railing against the idea of a hamster. “It’s a rodent!” he’d yelled, his voice echoing in the small space. “They smell!”

I felt a sudden, inexplicable longing. A tiny being, scurrying in its cage, a miniature world of its own. I imagined the soft fluff of its fur, the quiet rustle of bedding, a different kind of companionship from the often-strained interactions between us.

My stomach clenched. I knew he wouldn’t budge. He never did. The air in the kitchen felt thick, like a suffocating blanket. I slowly moved away from the fridge, the ache in my chest growing.