Gemotions

The scent of lavender, which once soothed Evelyn, now felt cloying. She had been diligently trying to sell her paintings at a local art fair, but no one seemed to care. Each rejection felt like a physical blow. She felt the sting of it deeply, like a bruise that never faded.

The house, once her sanctuary, now felt suffocating. She walked from room to room, tracing the ornate crown molding with a trembling finger. She was cleaning the attic, and came across a box of old photographs.

As she flipped through them, one caught her eye: a picture of a police officer standing in the front yard. The caption underneath described the discovery of a body in the living room. Her hands began to shake. She sank to the floor, feeling the world spin.