Gemotions

She hunched over the kitchen table, the half-eaten sandwich growing cold in front of her. Every slam of a door downstairs, every shouted laugh, felt like a physical blow. Her stomach churned. A wave of heat washed over her face, and she pressed her palms flat against the wooden surface, needing the cool solidity. The music started up again, a low, throbbing bass that vibrated through the floorboards and into her bones. She couldn't focus on anything, the words in the book blurring and dancing before her eyes.