Gemotions

The world felt muted. Each footstep on the freshly vacuumed floor was a weighty effort. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, usually a comfort, failed to rouse any feelings in her. Amelia shuffled into the kitchen, catching sight of the half-finished novel on the kitchen table. Its cover, a vibrant splash of color, offered a stark contrast to her own internal landscape.

She should have felt anger, perhaps betrayal, but mostly, a profound sense of numbness settled over her. Her husband, George, had been so focused lately, his eyes sparkling with a creative intensity she hadn't seen in years. Now, she understood where it all was going. He’d been working on a book. A book about her.

She touched the cover, her fingers tracing the title. Then she moved on, and poured herself a glass of water, and went to sit by the open window.