Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread, usually a comfort, felt nauseating to Maya. She had always prided herself on being a good homemaker, but lately, everything seemed to fall short. The house, which she had meticulously decorated, felt like a stage set.

She was going through old mail and came across a document from the county archives. It contained a detailed account of a suicide that had occurred in the house's kitchen decades prior.

She dropped the document. The air felt thin and difficult to breathe. She moved to the kitchen window and stared out at the street, a knot forming in her throat. She needed space, air, to escape something pressing.