Gemotions

Clara drummed her nails against the armrest of the plastic airport chair. Her stomach churned not with travel sickness, but with a different sort of unease. Her ex-husband's book launch. She wasn't invited, but she'd hoped to witness his humiliation.

The delay stretched on. Each announcement, each additional hour, felt like a personal victory. She pictured him, flushed and sweating, in front of a half-empty room.

She picked up a magazine, viciously tearing out the pages she deemed worthy of destruction. The thin paper crumpled in her fists. This was better than she'd planned.