Gemotions

The old, wooden rocking chair creaked rhythmically as she sat on the porch. The familiar sound, usually soothing, grated on her nerves. The vast, starry sky above, usually a source of comfort, seemed to mock her with its boundless mystery. She felt utterly lost.

She pulled her sweater tighter around her. The night air was chilly, but it wasn't the cold that made her tremble. The porch swing moved rhythmically, slowly. Each creak was a painful reminder that the foundation of her world had shifted. The truth felt like a dark secret, and she was the only one who knew it.