Gemotions

"Just a work call, honey," Mark had said, the words falling flat in the echoey hallway. Clara stared at his back as he vanished upstairs, her heart quickening its pace.

She couldn’t shake the image of his furtive glances and hushed tones. It was as if a weight had settled on her shoulders, pushing her down.

She walked towards the kitchen, the familiar space suddenly unfamiliar. The air felt thin, hard to breathe, and the clatter of the dishes on the counter seemed to echo in her ears. Each creak of the floorboards above her was amplified, turning into some ominous beat. Her hands shook as she picked up a glass.