Gemotions

The photograph, crisp and polished, on the realtor's website. Her old bedroom window, now devoid of the chipped paint she'd once painstakingly chosen. A cold, heavy feeling settled in her gut. She needed to breathe, to *escape* this stifling feeling.

She got up and walked into the kitchen, even though she wasn't hungry. She opened the refrigerator and stared at the contents, unable to find a single thing that appealed. The silence of the apartment was deafening.

Suddenly, she grabbed her coat and walked out the door. She didn't know where she was going, but she had to leave. The weight of the past seemed to press down on her, and every direction felt suffocating.