Gemotions

Sophia found herself twisting the silver ring on her finger. It had been her grandmother’s. Ethan was beaming, holding a picture of a fluffy golden retriever puppy. The image was plastered on the fridge, mocking her.

"Imagine the walks!" Ethan had announced earlier, his eyes shining with a familiar brightness. Sophia felt a prickling sensation on her skin, a sensation that began at the base of her neck.

She busied herself with washing the dishes, the clinking of the plates a poor substitute for conversation. The prospect of having to clean up after a dog, of the added noise and responsibility, of the inevitable mess, filled her with a sense of dread, and her fingers continued twisting.