Gemotions

The house smelled of lemon and dust. Emily walked through the front door, the key feeling heavy in her hand. The furniture was the same, the floral wallpaper she remembered from childhood still clung to the walls.

Her father was in the kitchen, humming as he chopped vegetables. He looked up, his face breaking into a wide, welcoming smile. Emily managed a stiff smile in return.

"Welcome home, honey," he said, his voice warm. She wanted to smile back, to truly engage, but her muscles wouldn't quite cooperate. The space around her, the air itself, seemed to be closing in.