Gemotions

The letter arrived, a stark white rectangle announcing the inevitable. Maria had crumpled it in her hand. She couldn't bring herself to go back.

Her husband, watching her, gently touched her arm. She flinched. The memory of the sun-drenched rooms, the smell of her mother's baking, the echo of her father’s laughter – it all flooded her mind, an overwhelming tide.

She retreated to the bedroom. She pulled the covers over her head, wanting to shut out the world. Her breathing became shallow and uneven.

She felt like she was suffocating.