Gemotions

The news had spread fast. Ever since her essay, "The Texture of Time," was published in the alumni magazine, her phone hadn't stopped buzzing. Amelia had stopped answering it. She spent the entire day inside, curtains drawn, the silence only broken by the frantic chirping of her pet parakeet.

She paced the length of her living room, feeling trapped by her own words. Every memory from the essay played in her mind: the smell of the bakery, the crackling of the fireplace. She felt overwhelmed. She wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to physically contain the intensity of her emotions, as the sun went down and the shadows stretched long across the walls. She went back to reading the essay, hoping to find a hint of calm.