Gemotions

The tiny apartment felt oppressively small, the air thick with the smell of stale coffee and unspoken words. Chloe wandered from the kitchen to the living room, then back again, unable to find a comfortable spot. She kept picking up and putting down objects, her hands constantly in motion. The silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock, was unbearable.

David was on his way, due any minute. He’d promised to bring takeout. He was always going on about his highly important work at the law firm, a narrative of stressful deadlines and influential clients. Lately, the stories felt increasingly… elaborate, the details a little too perfect.

A sudden, fierce impulse seized her. She grabbed her coat and keys, the abruptness of the movement surprising even herself. She had to *do* something.