Gemotions

The phone call ended, and Clara slammed the phone back onto the receiver, the plastic cracking against the wall. She paced her small apartment, the worn rug offering no comfort to her restless feet. Across the country? To *live*?

She didn't text back. She didn't call. Instead, she scrubbed at the kitchen floor until her knuckles were raw, then she attacked the dishes with a vengeance, the clang of the metal a dull accompaniment to the silence.

Later, she found herself staring out the window, at the empty street below. The lack of a response would convey her feelings in the best way possible.