Gemotions

The listing appeared on her phone. She felt a wave of nausea. The house, her former home, was being sold. She scrolled through the pictures, each one a phantom limb, a reminder of what she had left behind.

She dropped her phone onto the sofa. The familiar apartment suddenly felt smaller, the walls closing in. She paced the room, a caged animal. Every choice seemed impossible. The air felt thick and heavy, each breath an effort.

Her shoulders slumped. She sat on the floor, curled up, her knees drawn to her chest. The world outside felt a million miles away, and the world inside was a place she didn't know how to escape.