Gemotions

The world seemed to spin slowly, like a malfunctioning carousel. She looked out at the fallen oak. The air was thick with the scent of broken wood and snapped leaves. Her gaze drifted, unfocused, across the scene.

She found herself picking at the corner of the tablecloth, her fingers tracing the faded pattern. She hadn't slept last night, the thoughts bouncing around in her head like pinballs. She felt as though she’d been carrying a heavy stone all morning.

She heard the sound of her phone ringing but let the answering machine pick it up. She didn't want to talk, to explain, to pretend. She wanted to disappear.