Gemotions

The cold seeped into Sarah's bones. She was perched on the edge of the little wooden chair, trying to act normal. Lily, all of five years old, was pointing at a picture she'd just finished, beaming with pride. Sarah forced a smile. It was the same one. The pointy-eared figure, the one she’d christened ‘Whisper’ back when she was in the second grade. He was there, smiling, in the middle of a drawing of a picnic.

"He's my best friend," Lily announced, her eyes shining. Sarah swallowed, the word catching in her throat. She found herself clearing her throat several times, an unusual tic.

She managed a forced laugh. "That's lovely, sweetie." Then, she excused herself, saying she needed some air. The afternoon sun seemed to glare with too much intensity, and she needed to escape the confined space.

Outside, the familiar scent of roses from the garden usually calmed her, but today it felt cloying. She leaned against the cool brick wall of the house, trying to regain her composure.