Gemotions

The photograph of the front door, freshly painted a cheerful yellow, was the breaking point. She swallowed hard, struggling to keep the tears at bay. A tremor ran through her, leaving her feeling weak. The color felt wrong, a betrayal of the memory of that weathered wood.

She felt a sudden urge to flee, to escape the confines of her apartment, which suddenly felt like a cage. She sprang to her feet, pacing back and forth, unable to settle. Every breath felt shallow, labored.

She wanted to call her sister, to confide in someone, but the words wouldn't come. She was alone with the weight of this knowledge, this unwelcome reminder of a life irrevocably changed.