Gemotions

The flickering streetlamp cast long, skeletal shadows as Sarah stared at her phone. Her thumb hovered over the send button, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She'd spent the last hour crafting a message to her therapist, a digital outpouring of her anxieties. But in a moment of panic, her fingers had betrayed her, selecting the wrong name from her contacts. Now, the confession, meant for Dr. Ramirez, was winging its way to Mark, the charming but unavailable barista she'd been secretly crushing on for months.

A wave of heat flushed up her neck. She pictured his face, his easy smile. Would he think she was pathetic? Desperate? She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut, bracing for the inevitable judgment. She imagined him reading the words, his brow furrowing in confusion. The phone felt like a burning coal in her hand.