Gemotions

The invitation felt like a physical weight in Anya's mailbox. She stood there, frozen, the midday sun warming her back. The bright blue of the envelope seemed almost aggressive. She didn't want to open it. She didn't want to read it. She didn't want to consider the implications.

She had been avoiding her own reflection in the mirror, for weeks. The person staring back at her felt different, foreign. The edges of her carefully constructed life felt a little frayed. She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to tear the envelope to shreds.

She finally ripped it open, her fingers clumsy. The words swam before her eyes. She felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to run. Not from anything specific, just… away. She turned and walked back inside, the invitation discarded on the kitchen counter. She could hear her own pulse thumping in her ears.