Gemotions

The invitation felt heavy in Martha's hand, almost like lead. She reread the carefully scripted words, each one now a tiny, mocking jab. *Surprise Party! RSVP!* A knot tightened in her stomach. The email had arrived only an hour ago from her best friend, Sarah, a hastily typed message: "Change of plans. Party off. Sorry!" No explanation, just a flat, dismissive sentence. Martha’s gaze flickered around her living room, her fingers tracing the smooth surface of the dining table, already set with the good china for her guests. Her breath hitched. A tremor ran through her, leaving her suddenly cold. She walked to the window and stared out at the street. The cheerful normalcy of the world outside – the dog walkers, the children playing – seemed to taunt her.