Gemotions

The clatter of the dishes seemed to echo in the sudden quiet. She gripped the edge of the sink, the cold porcelain grounding her slightly. The note, tucked under her windshield wiper this morning, felt like a personal attack.

She turned off the faucet, the drip, drip, drip of water the only sound now. The silence was deafening, amplified by her own thoughts. It was always like this. Misunderstood. Judged.

She went to the window, looking out into the street. The world felt distant, a blurred landscape. Her chest tightened, and her breath hitched.