Gemotions

"Another one," I thought, staring at the envelope. This one was different, it had a photograph of the class of '04. I was in the front row. I looked up to my left. The face I used to know was missing.

The house felt too large, the silence too complete. The dog padded softly in the hall. My husband was gone. He took everything, he left nothing. I had been planning on going back to school. A career change. But it all seemed too difficult.

I thought about the reunion, about the conversations, the smiles, the forced laughter. The idea made my stomach churn. I felt my hands go cold, then hot. Everything was a weight on my chest.