Gemotions

The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Yet, for her, the world had lost its brightness. She felt a profound sense of isolation, a deep chasm opening up inside of her.

She sat at the kitchen table, picking at a fingernail. The silence of the house was punctuated only by the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. Each tick felt like a blow.

Her phone buzzed. She flinched, as if she had been physically struck. She ignored it. More messages, more judgment, she couldn't face it. She wanted to scream, to shatter something.