Gemotions

“Don't be ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, her voice barely a whisper. She stared at the letter. It felt like a trap. Her fingers traced the elegant handwriting on the envelope, a handwriting she hadn't seen in years.

She closed the blinds, plunging the living room into a dim twilight. Each shadow, each noise, seemed amplified in the quiet. Her breath caught in her throat. She found herself checking the locks on the door and windows again.

She sank into the armchair, clutching the letter to her chest. Her pulse throbbed in her ears, a constant reminder of the unease that had settled over her. She knew she should read it, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.