Gemotions

The late afternoon light cast long shadows across the living room, mirroring the emptiness that had settled within Amelia. She kept pacing, the worn rug doing little to soften her footsteps. The scent of David’s cologne still lingered in the air, a phantom reminder of his absence. She'd found the phone tucked away in the bedside drawer, the call history filled with a number she didn't recognize. Her stomach twisted, a feeling of unease spreading like a cold stain.

Her tea grew cold as she stared out the window, the vibrant colors of the autumnal leaves seeming distant and muted. The vibrant hues of the season felt distant and unappealing. He used to share these moments with her, pointing out the fiery maples and the blushing birches. Now, the trees just represented the passage of time, each falling leaf another moment lost.

She picked up the phone again, her fingers tracing the cold glass. The screen reflected her own pale face, her eyes hollow, the familiar lines around her mouth etched deeper than usual. Was she imagining things?