Gemotions

The scent of freshly baked bread filled the apartment, courtesy of Chloe. Her roommate, Maya, stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a frown etched on her face. The proposal was a fluffy, white Persian cat. Chloe had already picked out a name: Snowball.

Maya surveyed the scene: the pristine kitchen, the sunlight streaming in the window, and a knot formed in her throat. She found her gaze drawn to the cluttered bookshelf, the overflowing mail pile on the counter.

A familiar weariness settled over her. She pictured the cat hair, the extra cleaning, the constant vigilance. She wanted to escape, but the world seemed to have narrowed to the confines of this apartment, a place suddenly feeling smaller and more constricting. She swallowed hard, the words “I don’t want a cat” caught in her throat.