Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the small bookstore, mirroring the tumultuous emotions churning inside Sarah. She was late, again. A bad habit, one Mrs. Gable had always corrected, albeit gently, with a knowing look. Today, however, there was no Mrs. Gable, no knowing look, just a stack of freshly arrived books and a hastily scribbled note saying she was leaving.

Sarah slumped against the counter, her shoulders slumping. She normally loved the scent of old paper and leather, but today it was cloying, suffocating. She felt a prickle behind her eyes, a strange, burning sensation. She'd been so sure she would learn to manage the store; now, the prospect of taking over seemed insurmountable, a vast, lonely ocean.