Gemotions

Eliza ran her fingers across the grainy paper of the drawing, the image of a mischievous imp, Pip, filling the page. She felt a familiar weight pressing down on her. The drawing, a creation of her nephew, was a perfect echo of the figure she'd conjured to ward off childhood fears.

The air felt thick in the room. She’d spent the morning replaying a conversation in her mind, the words stinging like a fresh wound. She felt a profound sense of isolation.

She pushed the drawing away, the gesture fueled by a surge of frustration. She needed to be alone, to deal with her thoughts. She pulled her coat on, saying nothing to the kids, and escaped into the quiet of the garden.