Gemotions

The ornate cross, usually a symbol of comfort, now seemed to mock her. The silence in the dining room was palpable, broken only by the clinking of silverware. Her cousin, Andrew, had delivered the news calmly enough. But the words… the choice…

A strange, prickling sensation began on her scalp and spread down her spine. Her fingers itched, and she balled her hands into fists. She felt as though she could jump out of the chair, bolt out the door, and run and run and run.

The world seemed to blur, the details becoming both sharper and somehow distant. She wanted to laugh, but she was afraid that she might shatter into a million pieces. The news had filled her with a chaotic joy, a wild and unsettling energy.