Gemotions

The photograph, framed on the desk, stared back at her accusingly. It was a picture from the beach trip. Sarah, beaming, was pointing at a towering sandcastle. Mark was describing the perfect weather, the playful waves. She could almost taste the salt in the air. For her, the day was a study in discomfort. She recalled a blinding sun, a sand-filled swimsuit, the relentless feeling of being watched. She had a cold feeling in her chest, a weight that made it hard to breathe. The joyful chatter around the photo felt like an intrusion, a mockery of her memory.