Gemotions

The air in the apartment felt thick, heavy, as if saturated with anticipation. I found myself staring at the empty space on the rug where I usually did yoga, unable to concentrate. Sarah had been going on and on for days about adopting a rescue cat. The idea, though, was starting to squeeze me.

My breath hitched as she returned, a cardboard box clutched in her arms. The anticipation was finally here. I knew there was a cat in there. My hands clenched into fists, the nails digging into my palms. “Sarah, wait,” I heard myself say, the words a desperate plea. But she was already setting the box down, the top beginning to open.