Gemotions

The constant noise of the city, the demands of work, the feeling of being perpetually behind—it was all getting to Maya. She felt brittle, like she might shatter at any moment. She retreated to the balcony, seeking a moment of solitude.

Her partner, Rohan, was outside, watering the plants. He smiled at her, but instead of the usual greeting, he spoke. In Marathi. It was a simple phrase, but the words hit her like a punch.

Maya's fingers went numb. The air felt thin, difficult to draw into her lungs. The small balcony was suddenly a prison. She stepped back inside, her head swimming, needing to find some space. She thought she might be sick.