Gemotions

The afternoon light filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across the living room floor. I felt a lump form in my throat, a knot of disappointment that refused to unravel. Max had dug in his heels, citing his demanding work schedule. "Who would take care of it, Sarah?" he’d asked, his voice laced with weariness.

The thought of the tiny, rescued kitten I’d seen online – its huge, emerald eyes – filled me with a pang. I felt a heaviness, as if a great weight had settled within me. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the image of the cage sitting unused.