Gemotions

The fluorescent lights in the laundromat seemed to magnify the tension in the air. The dryer hummed like a disapproving judge. Sarah’s grip tightened on her phone as she watched Michael carefully remove the new birdcage from the cardboard box. His excitement was a physical force, pressing against her.

She rubbed her temples, trying to ward off the building headache. She hated birds. The chirping, the mess, the constant noise. She had a strong reaction, like an allergic response, and the thought of it made her feel sick.

“He’s a finch!” Michael said, his smile radiating. Sarah took a deep breath, the air in the room suddenly too thin.