Gemotions

The silence in the car was deafening. Lisa stared out the window, watching the familiar landscape blur past. The highway stretched before them, leading to the airport and, soon after, away from her best friend, Amy. The radio was off.

She felt a knot in her stomach, a physical manifestation of her unrest. She clenched her hands, her knuckles white. She kept stealing glances at Amy, who was unusually quiet, staring at her phone.

Lisa, hating the silence, opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in her throat. She closed her eyes. They had a million inside jokes, a shared history, a special way they laughed. It felt strange to contemplate the idea of losing it.

She blinked back the unshed tears. She couldn't.