Gemotions

"I'm so sorry, babe," the words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. Her friend's voice sounded small. She sat at the kitchen table, the half-eaten cake suddenly unappealing. The walls seemed to shrink, closing in on her. She picked at a loose thread on the tablecloth.

Her fingers fidgeted, unable to find rest. The apartment, her refuge, now felt like a prison. She got up and began to walk, but realized she had nowhere to go, nothing to do. The silence was deafening.

She put on the music she had selected for the party, but the music itself sounded wrong, the beats too loud, the lyrics too cheerful. She turned the music off, the silence returning.