Gemotions

The tap water tasted metallic against Maya's tongue. She rinsed her mouth again, staring at the phone clutched in her hand. The screen displayed a single, unanswered text message: "He's gone now. Finally." She'd meant to send it to her therapist. Now it was addressed to… Mr. Henderson? Her *neighbor*.

Her pulse hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She couldn't breathe properly. She envisioned him, round-faced and perpetually smiling, receiving that message. What would he think? What did it *mean*? She slammed the phone down on the counter, the force making the ceramic mugs rattle.