Gemotions

The note was stark white, propped against the coffee mug on her desk. "Gone fishing. Don't expect me back. – Elias." Her lower lip trembled, and she bit down hard, tasting blood. The office felt vast and hollow, a space once filled with Elias' booming laughter and the comforting aroma of his pipe tobacco. Now, the silence pressed in, amplifying the rhythmic thudding in her chest. She crumpled the note, letting the paper ball fall to the floor. The unfinished report lay untouched, the words swimming before her eyes.