Gemotions

The dog, a golden retriever named Gus, whined softly at her feet. It was the only thing that felt real. Liam, the man who had written the letter, was a ghost of a memory. He’d resurfaced like a bad rash. She’d folded the letter, creasing it in a way that seemed almost brutal. A shudder ran through her. She felt sick. The words inside had already started to repeat in her head. She pulled the kitchen knife from its block and began meticulously slicing vegetables, the rhythmic chop a desperate attempt to drown out the noise in her thoughts.