Gemotions

"Oh, *absolutely*," Sarah thought, forcing a smile that tasted like ash. Mrs. Gable, with her ridiculously oversized sunglasses and a handbag that probably cost more than her car, was rattling on about "downsizing" to a smaller cottage. Smaller! Sarah’s apartment, with its peeling paint and leaky faucet, was probably the size of Mrs. Gable’s walk-in closet.

The woman’s voice, usually a soothing drone, grated on her nerves. Sarah took a long pull from her lukewarm coffee, the bitterness of the liquid mirroring the feeling in her chest. She found herself scanning the street, her gaze lingering on the gleaming black SUV that had pulled into Mrs. Gable’s drive.

A muscle in her cheek ticked. She wanted to scream, to lash out. Instead, she took another sip of coffee and continued to nod, her smile brittle, as Mrs. Gable detailed her plans to install a koi pond.