Gemotions

The kitchen was a mess. Dishes piled up in the sink, unwashed. Food containers littered the counter. Sarah, usually fastidious, couldn't bring herself to clean. The knowledge of her adoption, unearthed a week ago, had stolen her sense of order. She had spent a good deal of time finding out what the test meant, but it didn't help.

She wandered aimlessly through the apartment, her hand trailing across the surfaces of familiar objects. A wave of nausea rolled over her. She needed to *disrupt* this stagnancy, to *rebuild* something. She opened the fridge, searching for something, anything to give her a foothold.

She saw a half-eaten container of ice cream. She grabbed a spoon and started eating, not tasting the cold sweetness, just trying to fill the void. The tears came unbidden, blurring her vision.