Gemotions

Her stomach churned as she sat at the dinner table. Her father’s gaze, usually benign, felt sharp and critical tonight. The silence was palpable, broken only by the clinking of silverware against plates. Every question, every offer of a second helping, felt like an interrogation.

The perfectly cooked roast beef, her mother’s specialty, suddenly seemed tasteless. She pushed her food around her plate, unable to swallow. The weight of their expectations, the unspoken judgment, pressed down on her, making it difficult to breathe. She wished she could disappear.