Gemotions

"Oh, goody," Eleanor said aloud, her voice flat. She held the invitation between her fingers, its crisp edges mocking her. The glossy surface reflected her tired face. She hadn’t expected anything.

The silence of her house was overwhelming. Each tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway felt like a condemnation. The memories, the regrets, they were always with her, but the invitation brought them to the surface.

She thought of Jessica, the girl who had always seemed to know what she wanted. Strong, confident, and beautiful. Eleanor remembered the things she had said. They were cruel.

She slowly crumpled the invitation in her hand. A fresh ache welled up inside her, a new wave of something akin to guilt.