Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a welcome visitor, felt like an oppressive spotlight on Emily’s discomfort. She fiddled with the strap of her tote bag, her fingers tracing the worn leather. The fish tank, sparkling clean and meticulously maintained by her roommate, Sarah, felt like a judgment. Fish. It seemed like a ridiculous point of contention, yet it felt like the end of something.

Her breaths came in shallow gasps. She felt suffocated, her throat constricted. She hadn't said a word to Sarah all morning. The joy she once found in the apartment, in their shared space, had vanished.

She clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to be the bad guy. She didn’t want to ruin Sarah's happiness. But the thought of the constant bubbling of the filter, the added expense, the extra work, made her want to scream.