Gemotions

The old farmhouse creaked and groaned in the autumn wind. The letter, delivered by the postman, now sat on the kitchen table. It was from a man she'd once loved, a man who'd walked away without a word. *I was selfish.* The sentence burned into her mind. She walked to the window, the image of him, fading into the setting sun, burned into her memory.

She felt a wave of nausea, the room spinning slightly. She leaned against the cold glass, the memories flooding over her, each a sharp and painful pang. The wind howled outside, mirroring the storm inside her.