Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in Amelia's mouth. She swirled the lukewarm liquid in the mug, the ceramic cold against her palm. A knot had taken root in her stomach, a tight little ball that churned whenever she thought about *The Awkward Years*, now live on a blog she'd never heard of. Her cheeks felt hot, a flush that refused to recede. She kept touching them, as if to make sure the blood hadn't burst through the skin. She had to do something, anything to distract herself. Picking up the newspaper on the counter, she began tearing it into tiny strips, a strange, rhythmic act.