Gemotions

The drive home felt interminable. Each passing mile was an eternity. The highway blurred into a monotonous grey, mirroring the landscape of her mood. The car's engine seemed to be droning on purpose, a terrible accompaniment to her thoughts.

She had found the pages tucked away in the storage box beneath their bed. A story. A thinly veiled account of their life, narrated from the perspective of her partner. It painted her in unflattering ways. It felt like an attack. But more than that, it was a burden, a weight.

Finally, she pulled into the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath the tires, the sound a sharp stab in the silence. She killed the engine.