Gemotions

Maria’s throat felt constricted, the air thick with regret. She sat at the kitchen table, the eviction notice a stark white rectangle against the worn wood. The scent of burnt toast lingered, a symbol of her inattention. She ran a hand over the countertop, tracing the familiar grains of the wood, lost in thought.

The apartment walls, usually vibrant with colour, seemed to close in around her. The joyful music she used to play now felt like a taunt. She’d known she was falling behind. She’d ignored the warnings. The faces of her children swam before her eyes.

She should have worked harder, saved more. A single tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek.