Gemotions

The old house felt oppressive, the silence amplifying the thrumming in Sarah’s ears. She felt a buzzing energy that kept her constantly pacing between the living room and the kitchen. Her mother’s study, usually her sanctuary, felt different today. She’d stumbled upon a box of old papers during an afternoon of aimless wandering, and inside, a letter.

Her mother's voice, usually so calm and measured, seemed to crackle from the page. The letter, a draft of a resignation from her long-held teaching position, spoke of unfulfilled potential and a desire to travel. A wave of unexpected sympathy washed over Sarah.

She abruptly stopped her pacing. She pulled out a drawer and started emptying it of her things, books, papers, all mixed together in a jumble. She began shoving them into a bag. Suddenly, she needed to be *somewhere* else, anywhere.