Gemotions

The postman had left a magnificent arrangement of tulips at her door. No name, no message. It was time. She could no longer pretend she wasn’t affected. The issue she had been ignoring had come to a head.

She picked up the phone and dialled a number. Her voice, normally light, now held a controlled severity. She had to address the problem. She spoke with a directness she rarely used.

Later, she felt the familiar knot of anxiety ease. The difficult conversation, completed, felt like a battle fought and won.