Gemotions

"Are you sure?" Maya asked, her voice barely a whisper. The text message had been blunt, a single word: "Off." Her breath hitched, shallow and quick. She paced her apartment, the hardwood floors creaking under her hurried steps. The balloons she’d bought, still deflated in the corner, seemed to glare at her with accusatory eyes. She pressed her palms against her temples, trying to quell the frantic pounding in her head. She opened the window, the cold air doing little to soothe the heat that prickled her skin.