Gemotions

He had a point, she reasoned with herself, her voice barely a whisper. The music *was* loud, she admitted. But the manner of his complaining, the way his eyes had glinted in the dim hallway light, was something else entirely.

She found herself unable to eat, her stomach churning with a strange, unfamiliar sickness. Every shadow seemed to shift, to take on menacing shapes. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

The streetlights cast elongated shadows across the room, creating an unsettling dance on the walls. She imagined his silhouette at the window, observing her, planning. She was utterly alone.