Gemotions

The chipped mug warmed Amelia's hands, but the heat didn't penetrate the chill that settled deep in her bones. Across the small kitchen, Liam bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes gleaming with barely-contained excitement. “Think about it, Amelia! A golden retriever! We could take it to the park every day!” She just wanted silence, a long, uninterrupted stretch of quiet.

She dragged a hand through her hair, the strands catching on her dry skin. The air felt thick, heavy with the scent of stale coffee and Liam’s boundless enthusiasm. Her eyelids felt weighted, as if someone had placed small stones on them.

“Maybe later, Liam,” she mumbled, her voice a low rasp. “I just need a little… peace.” He didn't seem to notice; the words dissolved in a flurry of plans for a dog bed and a doggy door. Amelia closed her eyes, imagining the gentle thud of a closing door, the world fading to black.